Shavneral
by Shinsun
Summary: An AU yaoi fanfic. Kakarot is a slave at a dog/cock/etc-fighting facility called Shavneral where he's forced to fight any animal the men can sneak into the ring which is actually just a pit . He has been in this prison for as long as he can remember; but when a man called Vegeta shows up, he may have to rethink his past... and his future.
1. Chapter 1

Shavneral

Chapter 1 - Kakarot

Today. I knew it would be today. I could smell it in the air; the fetid, suffocating stench of terror, sweat and blood. I felt a shiver of anticipation – not fear, never fear – rattle the taut chains attached to the cuffs fastened on my wrists, shoulders and neck. To get an early taste for the bloodshed soon to come, I sank one of my enlarged canine teeth into my lower lip and licked away the bead of red that appeared there.

"Kakarot!" someone shouted. I ignored the voice of the approaching man, stilling my lashing tail.

The man was careful to lift the hand carrying a heavy, coiled whip up a few inches – showing me the weapon without actually showing me - before unlocking the door to my cage. He was threatening me in the most offhand way, reminding me of my place. As if I needed reminding.

I kept my gaze on the floor as he entered my cell, I didn't need to meet his gaze and he didn't expect it; I was nothing but an animal to him, and so I was expected to act like one. The man dropped a metal dish on the floor at my feet. I smelled raw meat and curled my lip; ignoring the proffered food in favor of sneaking a glance at him. His face was boring except for a scar across the bridge of his nose and a gold nose ring that I probably could have disregarded. _Ugly human,_ I thought mutinously, dropping my gaze back to the ground, _just like all the rest._

The man shifted his weight; that was all the warning I got before he slashed his whip across my shoulders. I winced as burning, crawling pain blossomed over my skin.

"Pay attention!" he snapped. I looked up at him, at his ugly, moss-green eyes narrowed in irritation.

"What did I do?" I growled; my voice almost animal in its rasping, grinding timbre.

The whip cracked across my skin again and my shoulders buckled.

"I did not give you permission to speak!"

I snorted doubtfully, he'd expected me to question him, and he'd expected me to speak. He just wanted to have an excuse to beat me. Not today. He would not break me today. I bit my tongue to silence myself.

"Now eat, you need your strength for today," he sneered.

I glanced at the lumps of flesh that could be classified as either meat or a failed experiment. _Revolting._

I pointedly refused the dish and its contents, turning my head as far as it would go with the cuff around my neck.

I expected the man to whip me again, but he just laughed humorlessly.

"Suit yourself," he muttered, still not looking at me, "But you may regret it when you see the line-up today."

I blew my bangs out of my face indifferently; my opponents were always weak. They were literally animals; dogs, bulls, wolves, boars, lions, whatever they could smuggle into the ring – which, let's not lie, was actually just a pit – whatever they could pump full of testosterone and convince to fight to the death. I hadn't been beaten yet and I presumed I never would. I didn't need drugs and whips to persuade me to fight; I always entered the ring with eagerness and bloodlust, ready to kill.

The man snapped his whip at his side, threatening me again without making contact.

"It's time to go, Kakarot; don't try anything or I will skin you alive and feed you to the dogs," he said, not without malice.

I held still as he removed the heavy cuff from around my neck, breathing through my teeth as the metal left my skin with a chill. The man's dirty green eyes never left my coal black ones as he took my right wrist in his grip and unclipped the shackle slowly. The distrust was so heavy in the air I could smell it. He took off the other handcuff and stood away as I got to my feet, relieving the stiffness in my muscles by tensing and relaxing them, swishing the kinks out of my tail and wrapping it around my waist defensively. I kept my head low, a gesture of submission that was completely fabricated, just enough to convince the man I wasn't about to attack him. Yet.

My reputation in this place, a dogfighting, cockfighting, bullfighting….. I could go on….. _facility_ known as "_Shavneral_" – don't ask me what it means, I don't have a clue – was something of legendary. When I step into the ring, a hush always fell over the crowd; whether because they'd seen me fight before and knew what I could do, or because I looked so very like them, like humans, and I was – without a doubt – a _disturbing_ spectacle.

It was enough that I wore only a black loincloth with gold fastenings, so that a _lot_ of scarred, chiseled muscle was revealed even _before_ my "opponents" shredded the cloth; I was also just as comfortable walking on all fours as on two legs, and either way I was lithe and wild, terrifying. And in addition to _that_, there were the alterations that had been made to my body for convenience and appearance alike.

Early on, my ears had been "cropped" so that they were less of a target for claws and teeth; the lobes and the outer shell had been almost completely removed, leaving just enough of the appendages to retain my hearing. The very tip of my nose had met a similar fate when I had very nearly gotten the whole thing sliced off by the tusk of a boar; the small section of skin and cartilage was seen as too risky to keep. The men would probably cut off my tail if I didn't keep it guarded around my waist, out of harm's way.

Some alterations were the product of injury. I lost the first digit of my left thumb to the jaws of a wolf years ago, the manager (I was forced to call him "master") of _Shavneral_ designed a weapon to replace it. Outside the ring I was left with nothing but a stump where once a fully functional finger was; but just before a fight, a wickedly sharpened "spur" of steel was slid over the stub like a claw. It was sharp enough to rend cloth, skin, and flesh.

But I digress; getting caught up in the past when there's a fight at hand. Today. I knew it would be today. The man that had come to my cell and released me stood back and I exited the cage for the first time in weeks. I hadn't had a decent fight in a long time; lately the fights between the animals had either gone on too long to allow for my time in the arena, or something had come up – an dog that was unwilling to fight, people videotaping when it wasn't permitted, blah, blah, blah, the usual. I can't say I've enjoyed my years at _Shavneral; _frankly it was nothing more than a prison and I hated it with a burning passion; but when they refused to let me fight, it was literally hell.

I waited impatiently while another man - technically he was my "handler" but all humans were the same to me – fitted the glinting steel spur onto the stump that remained of my left thumb, murmuring in my ear soothingly the whole time like I was a spooked horse. His litany was meaningless to me and I shrugged him off as soon as the blade was attached. I probably should have been grateful for his kindness, but in this place there was no room for it.

I was forced to wait another few, dragging minutes before the peal of a bell sounded and the gate in front of me opened with a bang. I knew the noise was meant to startle and anger the animals, but for me it was just sound. _Might as well give the people a show,_ I thought with a shrug. After all, _Shavneral_ was a business as well as a prison, and if I was going to do anything, I should do it right.

I leapt into the pit with a feral snarl, landing on my hands and knees and hunching my shoulders like a wildcat. My eyes flitted to the audience, watching me watch them with expectant awe. A smirk flickered across my lips and I threw my head back, roaring as loudly as I could. The raucous, guttural scream reverberated off the walls and shook the very foundation of the room. Ringing silence fell.

_Beat that._ I thought with a satisfied nod to myself. There was a bang as the gate on the other side of the ring unleashed my opponent. I waited for an animal to come charging into the pit, I waited for a snarling, spitting creature to attack me with thorn-sharp claws and teeth.

Nothing happened.

_Maybe they're having trouble getting it out of its cage. I probably scared it to death._ I smirked confidently.

Then a figure appeared in the gateway; a very human-like figure. _Did one of the handlers get lost or something?_ The figure advanced and I hesitated. I'd been trained to the bone to never raise a hand against humans, but this person was in _my_ ring. That made it _my_ opponent, right? Perplexed, still on all fours, mouth slightly ajar, I watched the figure approach until the light caught on its features. Usually I didn't pay any mind to human faces, but something about this one caught my attention. Smoldering black eyes. I'd never seen a human with eyes like that. The person was male, with a dark flame of spiked hair and a – I stared – a _tail._ Swallowing my unease, I stood up and faced my "opponent", my blood still singing with adrenaline. But there was something about this man. Something about the way he looked at me, the knowledge in his ebon eyes and the careless swing of his tail. I looked at this man and I saw myself.

"Kakarot?" the man spoke in a low baritone, tentative, yet assertive, "Kakarot, is that you?"

How did he know my name? I'd never seen him before in my life.

I ignored the audience of confused humans and took a step towards this strange person, brandishing my spur threateningly in case he attacked.

"Who are you?" I demanded in the gravelly sandpaper that was my voice.

The man visibly tensed, "Kakarot, it's me; Vegeta. I –"

"Did you come to fight?" I snapped impatiently.

"I came to rescue you."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, "How do you know who I am?"

"I've known you almost your whole life, I am your prince." The man called Vegeta said discordantly.

I snorted, "Impossible, I would have remembered you. Besides, I've lived _here_ for as long as I can remember, so –"

"I am your _prince_!" Vegeta repeated, as if trying to convince himself as much as me.

I bared my teeth, frustrated, "Why should I believe you? I don't even _know _you!" I dropped my grating voice a few octaves and added with a sneer, "You're in _my_ ring, you came in through _my_ opponent's gate, so you're going to fight me whether you like it or not."

Vegeta's face fell dejectedly, "I don't know you anymore, Kakarot."

I didn't bother responding. Adrenaline raced through my veins, I was itching for a fight, and I wasn't going to waste any more time talking. I attacked the man, leaping onto his shoulders and pinning him to the ground. He shot me one last, despairing glance before retaliating; jumping to his feet and aiming a punch at my ribs. I caught his fist with my left hand, letting the sharpened spur on my thumb drag across his gloved wrist, slitting open the leather and cutting his skin. Vegeta pounced, feinting to the right and attacking on the left with a well-placed kick. I grinned savagely and aimed a blow at his face.

I was used to fighting mindless animals; this was a battle strategist, a challenge at last.

And for the first time, I wasn't just eager for a fight; I was excited.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Shavneral

Chapter 2 – Vegeta

"I don't know you anymore, Kakarot."

I can't say I was surprised that Kakarot attacked me. I wasn't surprised by that; but I _was_ surprised by the younger Saiyan's appearance. I didn't remember Kakarot _ever_ dressing the way he was dressed now; I didn't remember him having that many scars, or that strange metal claw on his left thumb. There was something wrong with his ears and nose too. But that wasn't the worst of it. It was his eyes, and his voice, that shook me to the core. His once pure, clear voice was grating and guttural, like he was gargling nails; and the innocent, gentle black eyes I remembered were replaced with what I liken to cruel chips of cold flint. This was not the happy-go-lucky, childish Kakarot I had known in another life. This was a twisted, tortured creature that had lived through horrors that left him bereft of his old identity. I wondered what they had done to him to make him forget who he was. Maybe they'd drugged him, maybe they'd brainwashed him, or maybe they'd just beaten him senseless until he could barely remember his own name. Maybe he _didn't_; I realized, maybe he had absolutely _no clue_ who he was.

Getting to my feet after Kakarot had pounced on me, I jabbed a warning punch at his ribs, and didn't even blink when he caught the punch and cut my wrist with that steel claw or whatever it was. I responded with my own counterattacks; attacks that wouldn't have even fazed the Kakarot I knew. They didn't faze this one either, mind you, but I could tell that he wasn't nearly as strong as he was supposed to be. Otherwise he wouldn't have submitted to these weakling humans.

Ducking as he swung a kick at my head, I attempted something I had _never_ been good at. I tried to reason with him.

"Kakarot, listen to me," I said as we battled on, "This isn't who you are; you've let yourself become a slave,"

"So what?" Kakarot spat in that rasping, ruined voice, slicing at my face with his metal claw thing.

"'_So what'?_ You didn't allow _me_ to become a slave when I gave in to that Babidi creature and turned Majin, why do you let yourself?" I demanded, hoping to stir memories from the younger Saiyan, hoping I could make him remember.

"I don't know _what_ you're talking about," Kakarot snarled, deflecting my kick to his shoulder, tail tightening its hold around his waist. I kept my own tail unbound, flicking it in front of me in a gesture of trust; trust I still felt for this man that had become a monster.

"Look inside yourself! This…. this _creature_ you've become isn't the real you!" I snapped, holding Kakarot's flat black gaze for a few painful seconds before I had to look away.

Kakarot just scowled, aiming a punch at my chest which I dodged.

It hadn't been by any means _easy_ to get into this facility. With the woman Bulma's help – and a hefty price in money, sweat, time, and blood – I had managed to infiltrate the building, accompanied by the Namek, Piccolo; who was waiting for my return outside the ring, hidden in the audience. I'd convinced the "handlers" that I was a fighter, using the woman's excuse that I was here as an opponent for the one called Kakarot. It wasn't hard to deceive the guards or the handlers; they weren't exactly bright.

The moment of truth had been when I watched Kakarot leap into the ring… pit…. whatever…. I remember a sinking sense of dread as I saw him land on all fours and roar a challenge to the world. This was no honorable, Saiyan warrior – I doubted he even remembered what the word 'Saiyan' meant – he was more animal than man; and I remember the sorrow that set in as I beheld him up close. The anger, the hate in his eyes; the jagged, poorly healed wounds that had scarred horrifyingly all over his once flawless skin; and the alterations made to his face deliberately. The very thought that some insolent human with a knife had sliced off skin and tissue from a member of my proud race was enough to make me almost sick with rage.

But I'm getting off subject now. My point being, I had worked hard to get into this mess; so I wasn't going to back out unless I got what I came for. And that meant convincing Kakarot to leave this place. He didn't seem to have any particular fondness for the facility – what was it called again? Shav-something – but it seemed he'd been _trained_ like a dog to do only what the humans permitted. It was an outrage.

"Kakarot," I tried again, we were face to face, fists locked together after a simultaneous punch from both of us, "_please_," I think I might have used that word _once_ in my entire life, "I'm _begging_ you; leave this prison, become a free man once again. They have no hold over you, these humans."

Kakarot's cruel ebony eyes narrowed, I noticed a shallow scar below his right eyelid from some animal's claws tearing his flesh.

"Why should I trust you?" he snapped furiously, "Why should I even _listen_ to you?"

"I…." I was about to repeat myself and say I was his prince, but then I realized he needed to hear something different; he needed a little kindness to convince him I meant him no harm. I sighed; expressing myself was never my strong point, especially when I had to say something _nice_.

"I… I've known you since you were just a young, reasonably talented kid trying to make his way in the world," I said slowly; may as well start at the beginning, "I've seen you progress, I've watched you mature and surpass me time and time again. I used to hate you, yes. But not long ago I realized you were the only…." I faltered, floundering for the courage to say the word I had to say next, "You were the only _friend_ I'd ever had."

And what did I get for this wrenching, compassionate speech? A vicious punch to the face.

My head snapped back and I staggered, forcing the immediate fury from my veins, _forcing _myself to remain calm.

"Spare me," Kakarot growled low in his throat, "I've heard enough lies from the men I see every day; I don't need more from you. Your pathetic attempt at deception is revolting,"

_Well,_ I found myself thinking, _if anything, his vocabulary is definitely more colorful than I've ever heard._

"Would I lie to you, Kakarot?" I asked softly, the gentle tone feeling unfamiliar in my mouth.

"I don't know, _would_ you?" Kakarot sneered, lashing out with a kick at my knees. I sidestepped the attack, refraining from fighting back. My gaze flitted to the audience that had dwindled to less than a dozen people. _Must have gotten bored with the lack of bloodshed,_ I thought grimly.

"You can't honestly tell me you're _happy_ here?" I implored, surely he wasn't; there was just _no way_….

"What if I am?" the younger Saiyan snapped, "I wouldn't know, I've never actually been '_happy'_ in my life."

"Yes, you have," I breathed, almost to myself. I hadn't expected those words to leave my lips, but there they were. It occurred to me that Kakarot had stopped attacking and was just standing there, in a battle stance, looking at me with something like frustrated indecision. I wondered if this was progress or if I was still going in circles.

"What did you say?" Kakarot hissed, there was a quaver of uncertainty in the question though, and I clung to that small dent in the young Saiyan's barrier like it was my lifeline.

"I said _yes,_ you have, Kakarot. I've seen you happy. I remember your smile, though I'm not sure if I could fit it on your face here and now."

"How do you know that person was me?" Kakarot challenged; the anger was back in his voice, "It might have been someone else."

I shook my head slowly, "No, I'd know you anywhere, Kakarot. I know you're still you, you've just forgotten exactly who that is."

"Who _should_ I be then, pray tell?" he snarled, flashing the steel attachment on his thumb.

I didn't reply at first, I just raised my power until I reached Super Saiyan; my hair turning to gold and my eyes turquoise. I jumped up to the next level; with pale blonde hair and an aura of crackling lightning. I watched Kakarot's face for a reaction; _any_ reaction at all.

"You should be a hero, Kakarot. A Super Saiyan, defender of the universe. Your power is even greater than mine. You should be the mightiest warrior alive."

For a moment, just a _moment,_ I saw the most miniscule spark of recognition and hope in the younger Saiyan's midnight eyes. For a moment, he almost looked the way I remembered. But that moment passed, and his expression switched back to disbelieving scorn in an instant, as if the momentary spark hadn't even been there. Maybe it hadn't.

"Can you sense my energy, Kakarot?" I asked eventually, letting go of the transformation and powering down, "Can you sense how much I mean what I say?"

He looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. I waited for him to answer, watching the anger, the distrust and uncertainty, crawl over his face like a mask.

"You're insane," he said shortly, not meeting my gaze.

I let out a defeated sigh, I'd been on the cusp of a breakthrough with him; but he just _couldn't_ trust, or believe, anyone anymore. His whole world was built on lies and deceit, so that's all he saw in everyone and everything. It was the saddest thing I'd ever seen.

"You're right," I murmured, hopelessness setting in. I was ready to give up. "You're right. I _am_ insane. Insane enough to come to this crack house of a facility and try to pry an _animal_ of a man away from a prison he doesn't even want to escape. You're absolutely right, Kakarot."

Then I turned around, tears burning my eyes, "I thought I could bring you back, Kakarot. But there's just nothing left to bring back now. I'm sorry."

Then I walked away, head bowed in shame, without a second glance, forcing myself to keep walking and not turn around. It was a lost cause; I'd never get through to him. As far as I was concerned, Kakarot was dead now.

"I'm so sorry, my friend," I whispered as I left the arena, and Kakarot, behind.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Shavneral

Chapter 3 – Kakarot

I watched the person called Vegeta walk away, unsure as to what I'd just experienced. Vegeta had spoken with what seemed like honesty, but he'd also fought back when I attacked him, and he had probably been lying. I'd seen it all before; you trust them and you pay the price. _He's trying to deceive me,_ I thought with as much conviction as I could, _he has to be, what other explanation is there?_

Surely what this "Vegeta" character said wasn't actually true? I think I would know myself better than _he_ would. Still, there was something haunting about his endless black eyes. He seemed to have seen his share of hardship, like I had; though I distrusted him no less for having that small fact in common with me.

Who was he to show up out of the blue and claim to know everything about me? He didn't know anything. He couldn't. Because knowledge was power; and I wasn't willing to give that much power to someone like Vegeta. Besides, the things he said made no sense. I didn't remember anything of the sort.

One of my earliest, clearest memories from before, when I was still new to this place – I assumed it was years ago; I had a hard time measuring time here - was waking up in agony; with fresh, ruthlessly deep slashes in my back from the crack of a whip, over and over. I had barely been able to open my eyes; I was in so much pain. It had occurred to me that I had no idea how I'd gotten where I was. There were people there; people I didn't recognize. They were talking amongst themselves, as if I weren't there – they probably assumed I was still unconscious or something.

I remember hearing their words. Most of what they said didn't make sense, but I remember panicking when I realized I didn't remember _anything;_ andI remember listening to their conversation raptly, hanging on every word with the desperation of a dying man.

"…Such resilience," one man was saying in an undertone, "Had to whip him for days before he started to crack."

"What happened?" another asked quietly, "How did you get him to submit?"

"Well, it was actually simple." The first man replied with a self-satisfied smirk, "Manipulating him to come here was like taking candy from a child. And once he let down his guard, all it took was the right timing and the right amount of lashes."

"He resisted, I assume?" a third man put in.

"Damn straight," the first man nodded grimly, "Nearly tore my arm out of its socket the first day; and after that he still protested, mostly just verbally, though."

"And after that?" the second man asked in a hushed voice.

"He stopped questioning and making threats around day three," the first man answered slowly, not without relish, "I came to him in his cage on day four; he didn't even seem to know where he was. He kept repeating one word: '_Kakarot, Kakarot', _over and over. I assume that's what his name was before,"

"Kakarot, huh? Interesting… Well, from the struggle he put up, I presume he'll make a kick-ass fighter." The third man said.

The first man just smirked and nodded. Then darkness had closed over my vision again and I passed out.

After that, my life was a living hell. I don't know what my life was like before, or whether I even _had_ a childhood in the first place. Maybe I just appeared in this place. Maybe I was born here. I had no clue. I just concentrated on getting through each day, second by agonizing second.

The first few weeks of 'training' were the worst. I was whipped so many times that I think they messed up my nervous system or something. I was almost constantly in some state of pain. The men seemed to realize that, so they didn't threaten me with pain after a while. They threatened me with _worse_ pain. I think the worst of it was when they found out I was afraid of fire. I didn't know why I was, but they took full advantage of it; burning my palms if I didn't do something right, brandishing torches at me if I snapped at them. Sometimes I think they induced fear and pain just because they _could._

After I while I stopped caring and, for a short time, my state of '_holy fucking shit_!' turned to a state of what might have been tolerance. I didn't care if they whipped me, because I knew they would stop sooner or later. I didn't care if they burned me, because they'd get bored of it eventually and they knew I needed my hands to fight. So three weeks went by where I just _didn't care_, and those short weeks were the easiest days, though they were by no means easy. They were just bearable.

Then they cropped my ears and nose. They didn't explain what they were doing, they just snapped shackles on my wrists and forced me to kneel while a man dressed reasonably like a doctor – and I say 'reasonably' because he was obviously _not_ a doctor - ran a red-hot, razor-sharp blade around the outside of my ear. The heat was for cauterizing the flow of blood, I later learned. And you better believe it hurt. It hurt _so. fucking. bad._ It was worse when they cut off the end of my nose, _literally_ with a knife. I wanted to scream, I wanted to attack my tormenters, but my 'training' and my chains allowed no such thing; so I just bit my lip hard to keep from making a sound and held still while my face was mutilated deliberately.

And then I lost the tip of my thumb in a fight with a wolf. Skin, flesh and bone, a whole section of the finger was just gone. I still killed the wolf; and when the men came over to me, they just glanced at the injury, muttered something about how 'accident happen', and walked away. I questioned them, asking them what I was supposed to do with just half a thumb, whether I would even be able to fight. They admonished me angrily for speaking out of turn, and two burly guards took me by the shoulders and 'escorted' me out of the ring. They threw me back in my cage without so much as a word of comfort, and I just hugged my knees to my chest, hung my head and cried.

I think that experience was what broke me. The fact that these people – the only people I knew, the only people in my whole world – could do such a thing, it just erased any trace of humanity I might have had in the beginning. I became an animal. I barely remembered how to speak, and when I did it was in a low, rasping, grinding voice. A voice raw from screaming and snarling. I saw everyone as an enemy. I hated the humans that bound me and tortured me. I hated the drugged, beaten animals I fought that reflected my own suffering. I hated the fucking rats that scurried across the floor of my cage. I think I ate those rats sometimes. I think I hated them enough to pin them to the ground and tear them to pieces before eating them, bones and all. I became something unfeeling and savage after a while. I became a monster. And when I mauled one of the guards that came to my cell one day, I was chained up, even in my own cage; the place I'd once felt remotely safe in.

All I knew afterwards was the feeling of cold chains around my neck and wrists, and the smell of sawdust, sweat and blood. I heard the growling, baying, and snarling of the animals that shared my prison every day. I heard the shouting of humans and the scrape of various objects as they were dragged or pushed across the floor. The sound of footsteps. The smell of animal waste and the taste of fear in the air. All I knew was what was in the moment. I knew no past, I saw no future.

And then Vegeta showed up and I was forced to contemplate the memories I had buried deep years ago. Memories I was afraid to examine because they had been so painful. So here I was, lost in the past, remembering.

I heard the snap of a whip behind me hitting the ground and I turned around, returning to the present. A man I didn't recognize – but they were all the same, so I didn't really care – was brandishing the weapon at me threateningly.

"Back to your cage, Kakarot," he said flatly, pointing to the gate at the side of the ring with the hilt of the whip.

I bared my teeth at him, my eyes flitting to where Vegeta had left a moment ago; then my gaze returned to the man in front of me.

"You know the penalty for your hostility," the man leered, "Now," he snapped his whip, "Are you going to go on your own or do I have to _make _you?"

I remembered how fearless I'd been around the man who'd released me from my cage this morning. All that confidence was just gone now. I hung my head and dropped to all fours tiredly, walking on my hands and knees fluidly as I followed the man back to my cell. He made to shove me inside, but I growled warningly at the approaching hand and he backed off. The man fastened my shackles around my wrists, and the heavy cuff around my neck, picked up the neglected food bowl from before and left without a word; closing and latching the door to the cage behind him.

I dropped my gaze to the floor covered with sawdust. I drew up a recent memory of Vegeta's face as he told his story. He'd seemed so earnest, but I couldn't make myself believe him. Not now. After all, even if he _was_ telling the truth; why would he want to rescue me? I was just a worthless animal in an inescapable prison. And I guess I was bound here, body and mind. I don't know if I even knew how to live beyond the bars and chains.

But even though I told myself a thousand, no, a _million_ times, that Vegeta was a liar and he would no doubt betray me if I believed him for a second, I couldn't smother the small, wavering hope that he'd come back.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Shavneral

Chapter 4 – Vegeta

The Namek greeted me with a curt nod when I joined him in the audience. I leaned against the banister that overlooked the ring below and met his eyes nervously.

"How'd it go?" he asked nonchalantly, shifting his weight to one side.

I sighed, "Terrible."

To my surprise, he chuckled without humor, showing a little of his long canine teeth as he did.

"You really can't do _anything_ right, can you Vegeta?" he muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I sneered, affronted.

"It was a simple enough task," Piccolo tilted his head to one side, "And you came back empty-handed."

I grit my teeth almost painfully, "If you think I didn't try literally _everything_; then _you_ try your hand at pouring out your soul just to get him to listen. Then _you_ get punched in the face and called insane when all you did was try to convince him you were on his side."

I think Piccolo almost smirked at me. I snarled.

"And what do I have to show for it? Nothing."

"Well," the Namek said softly, "Are you going to give up?"

I thought about that. I'd been ready to throw in the towel when I saw the hopelessness in Kakarot's gaze before, but now…. I wasn't so sure. It wasn't really in my nature to quit. When I was down, I got back up; when I was picked on, I took it; when things weren't going my way, I _made_ them go my way.

"No," I said shortly.

Piccolo nodded absently, "I thought not, but what are you going to do now?

"Why me? Why does it have to be me?" I muttered. Kakarot had friends, lots of them. If anything, I was more of an enemy to him than a friend. So why was _I_ the one that had to get through to him?

"He listens to you. He trusts you. At least, he used to. And you're Saiyan, like him, so you're the most likely to get through to him." The Namek replied simply as if he'd read my thoughts. I hadn't expected him to respond, never mind quite so elaborately, and I blinked and looked down at the ring, thinking hard.

"What do you think I should do?" I asked honestly, I wasn't used to asking for advice, but I'd tried just about everything else.

Piccolo smirked; or rather, the motion of a smirk. The amusement didn't extend past the upturned corner of his mouth.

"You mean what would I do? Or what do I think _you_ should do?"

"Either, both, I don't know," I said quietly and not a little awkwardly.

"Well usually I'd tell you to hit him over the head and drag him, but I don't think that'd be the best bet right now, given the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" I stood a little straighter.

"You care about him," Piccolo said bluntly, "As do I. This situation requires a lot more thought than either you or I would have given back in the day."

I took a moment to appreciate that I didn't deny caring for Kakarot. In the next moment I was asking myself what had happened that had made my point of view change so drastically. What had happened that had made me see Kakarot as more than just a punching bag; but as a comrade, or even a friend?

I first met Kakarot when I came to Earth a long, long time ago. Back then he was just a young teenager with plans for the future and a rather strong arm. Despite being raised on Earth, his attitude was very Saiyan, I remembered. He was what back then? Fifteen, sixteen? And he was easily one of the strongest people on Earth, if not _the_ strongest.

All I wanted at the time was to beat him quickly and be on my way, but he kept stopping me between attacks, asking me and asking me; asking me to teach him more, more, always more; to show him that move again or slow down so he could get a closer look. He was so inquisitive and intelligent that I took a grudging liking to him, though I never admitted it out loud.

As I learned more about him, so he learned more about himself. I believe he'd been dubbed the name "Goku" in his time on Earth, which I thought was ridiculous. A Saiyan should be called by the name they were born under. So I told him about his heritage and his real name; and to my slight surprise, he immediately took to it. I think he'd been under the constant impression that he was different, that he didn't belong, and to have someone to explain why and point him in the direction he was meant to follow – whether he chose to in the end or not - seemed to mean a lot to him.

I was there the first time he stopped one of his friends – the bald, short one – in the middle of a conversation, and asked him to call him Kakarot instead of Goku. I was a little startled, but I can't say I wasn't proud. Kakarot was about twenty years old then; it took him _that_ long to decide who he really was. Frieza had just been defeated, so I was in high spirits at the time, for once in my life I had a choice to lead it how I wanted; and despite being outshone by the third-class yet again, I was somewhat relieved to know that Super Saiyan actually existed. It gave me a goal.

And then there was the whole separation thing that was confusing. Certain people called him Kakarot and certain people didn't, some simply because it was too baffling to talk to him in a conversation with people calling him two different names, some because they liked one better than the other or for some other reason, whatever. I don't think he told anyone he cared one way or the other, but I noticed that he got a satisfied expression on his face when he managed to get someone to switch from one name to the other. Of course, I had called him Kakarot from the beginning, but I never pointed that out or anything. Out loud.

There came a rather big shocker for both of us when a boy called Trunks showed up from the future with his mentor and friend Gohan. Trunks claimed to be my son, and Gohan – who only had one arm I might add – claimed to be Kakarot's; I found the whole thing extremely weird. It didn't seem to bother Kakarot as much, probably because he dealt with such strange things in his everyday life.

And then there was Cell. It took a lot to beat him, and it was one of the first times that Kakarot and I fought side by side for the same cause. And when Kakarot sacrificed himself to defeat the monster, I waited with the rest of his friends and family for him to return.

Then Buu came along, and I fought beside Kakarot again for the first time in seven years. He'd been surprised to discover that he had a second son, I remember. But yes, I recall there was a woman. She seemed kind of lost in her life, unsure which way she was going as if something had been turned over in her universe. I think her name was ChiChi. Anyway, Kakarot pitied her and apparently things got serious and the young Saiyan ended up siring a child. Of course, he already had Gohan, but he was from the future so I wasn't sure if he counted. I never saw the woman ChiChi again and I assumed Kakarot didn't either.

After Buu was defeated, there was a short time of peace. But as most things end, so did that time. I remembered it as if it was yesterday, and I could replay it in my mind it almost down to the second.

I was walking down the hallway at Capsule Corp – I'd been staying there as I didn't have anywhere else to go – when I got stopped by the woman Bulma. She looked spooked, like she'd seen something terrifying.

"What do you want, woman?" I'd snapped in the usual way, unused to being halted in such a manner.

"It's Goku," she said, she was one of the few people that still called him that; probably because she'd known him the longest.

"What about him?" I'd asked in a disinterested voice.

"He's gone. I've called all his friends, they have no idea where he is." She blurted in a rush.

I remained silent, but in my head a million questions were flitting about like moths.

"We have to find him. He could be in serious trouble," the woman continued anxiously.

I didn't protest, or even rebuke her use of the word "we", under the circumstances and just followed where she lead.

It took us two years to find him, and another year to devise a strategy and infiltrate the facility. Three years of toil leading up to one moment, and Kakarot refused to leave.

I sighed, returning to the present and shoving the lingering memories away for now.

Piccolo was looking at me out of the corner of his eye, waiting patiently for me to speak.

"I'm going to find him; wherever they're keeping him." I said determinedly, "I'm going to find him and set him free, even if I have to blow this entire building to pieces in the process."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Shavneral

Chapter 5 – Kakarot

"Come on, Kakarot, it's just a little needle," the man said harshly, "Get ahold of yourself!"

I was deaf to his words, my gaze tethered to the syringe in his hand. A growl was building in my throat and I was conscious that I was shaking. I showed the man the full length of my canine teeth and snarled in defiance.

A whip cracked at my side and I flinched before realizing it hadn't struck me.

"It's only a needle," the man repeated, forcing my eyes to meet his. I recognized the ugly moss green irises and the scar across the bridge of his nose that had a nose ring in it. It was the man from before, not that it made any difference.

"No." I growled. His gaze hardened and he raised the whip threateningly. I couldn't move my arms to defend myself, so I did the one thing I could.

I summoned all my nerve at spat in his face. The whip literally whistled through the air before slashing across my back. I winced, but I had to hide my smirk from him as well. I'd made him mad, and it was a small comfort to know I could still scare people.

"Fine." The man gritted out, wiping the offending saliva from his ugly eyes, "Have it your way, _for now._"

Then he left without another word, taking his needle and his whip with him.

I breathed a sigh of relief that no one would hear. It wasn't necessarily the needle I was afraid of – I wasn't even really that _afraid_ of it – it was the fact that I knew it was full of testosterone that would make me forget myself in a whirl of anger and madness. The men had used those damn needles on every other animal _but_ me until now; and the fact that they were willing to try it now was discouraging. It meant I'd lost some of my edge. I didn't scare them as much as I used to. How long before they lost their wariness and started burning me again? How long before they lost their interest and sent me to slaughter? I shivered. I'd seen the dogs and bulls and boars that were loaded into trucks and sent away to be butchered. The very thought was enough to harden my resolve against the needles. Much as I hated this place and the hell that was my life, I wasn't willing to give it up just yet.

A heard footsteps and I raised my head a little, the cuff around my neck chafing the skin.

"Kakarot?" someone whispered, "Kakarot are you in here?"

Now I might not be the best at remembering voices, but I'd know that one anywhere.

"Vegeta?" I breathed; surely he was too far away to hear, but I swear his breath hitched and I could almost taste the tension in the air.

"Kakarot… where are you? I can't see," Vegeta said quietly.

I assumed he wasn't as accustomed to the dark as I was, and I didn't want to raise my voice for fear of alerting the guards outside. How had Vegeta managed to sneak past them? Why was he here?

Something was nagging at me, and I finally slowed down and listened to one thought that was fast becoming a loop in my mind. _You don't trust him, remember? Just stay quiet and he'll go away._

But did I really want him to leave? Especially when my reputation, and even my life, was on the line now?

I hesitated a moment longer, then rattled the chains fastened to the cuffs on my wrists, alerting Vegeta of my location. The tinny, jangling sound reverberated in the still air; but it wasn't a suspicious sound, so I didn't expect it to send off any alarms or anything.

The sound of footsteps resumed; tentative, but steady. I peered through the darkness, and a chink of moonlight between the rafters fell on one of the planes of Vegeta's face, illuminating one of his coal eyes. Distrust set in before I could silence it, and I felt my entire body tense like a coiled spring.

"It smells like a barn in here," he muttered, almost to himself, glancing at the other cages before focusing on me. The one black eye I could see through the blackness blinked slowly, giving me a good, long look at the depthless, midnight pupil fixed on my face.

"Why are you here?" I whispered, my voice sounding even more rasping at such a low octave.

"To get you out of this place," he replied softly, his mouth barely moving. His gaze drifted to the chains around my wrists and neck and the one eye I could see narrowed angrily.

Hope leapt in my chest for a millisecond before I crushed it, wrestling it down and locking it away. _No. I won't… I can't…._

"Why?" I challenged in an undertone.

"Because…" Vegeta hesitated, obviously trying to think of a legitimate reason, then his eyes – or rather, the eye that was visible to me in the dark – fell on the shackles and bars again and he growled, "Because! Look what they've done to you, Kakarot; there is nothing right about this!"

"It's all I've got," I pointed out, "How do I know the world out there won't be worse than this?"

Vegeta was silent for a moment, "Kakarot, what could _possibly_ be worse than this?"

I averted my gaze, thinking of the animals sent to slaughter.

"I'm not asking you to trust me," Vegeta went on quietly, "I'm just asking you to come with me; how will you know what the world is like if you never see it?"

I was about to retort, but he had a point.

"Let me help you," Vegeta's dark, dark eye met mine for a moment.

I was torn. I didn't want to stay here, I was afraid of my future here; but I'd learned over the years to never trust anyone. It was next to impossible for me to just throw away lessons learned in blood and scars.

_-Flashback-_

_- A man in an expensive-looking red coat unlocked the door to my cage and opened it a fraction of an inch. Immediately, I bolted for the opening in a bid for escape, hardly daring to believe my luck. I was an inch away from freedom when I crashed headlong into unforgiving iron bars and fell back to the ground, jarring my shoulder painfully as I landed hard on my side._

_The man laughed out loud; there was absolutely no humor in that laugh._

_He looked down at me with harsh, steel-grey eyes._

"_It hurts, doesn't it?" he sneered._

_I sat up gingerly, grinding my teeth to keep from yelping as I wrenched my hurt shoulder._

"_Remember that, pet. Freedom hurts," he put on a falsely caring expression, "The world is a cruel, painful place. A livewire like you would stumble and fall on their first step out there."_

_He leaned over me before adding with malice, "And if you fall in the real world, pet, you can't get back up so easily."-_

Vegeta was watching me silently, unwavering and steadfast as a tree. I found something akin to respect for his patience.

"Please, Kakarot?" he asked softly, the moonlight landing on the hand he placed on one of the bars between us. There was a promise in that small gesture, whether I chose to acknowledge it or not.

I looked at him, warring within myself. I was about to say yes, to thank him a thousand times and follow wherever he would lead; but then I saw the bars and fire and whips flash before my eyes and I shuddered involuntarily.

I looked away; something was clogging my throat, making it impossible to swallow.

"I… I c-can't, Vegeta," I murmured in a voice thick with unshed tears. I hadn't cried since I lost the end of my thumb; I wasn't about to start now.

"I know you're scared," he said slowly, placing his other hand on one of the bars and facing me stanchly, "And I know they've done some terrible things to you in this place. But I'm not here to hurt you, I swear it. You have friends out there. You have sons. You have family."

I shook my head slowly, the chains attached to the cuff around my neck clinking, I felt I was unable to listen and keep my resolution not to cry at the same time. And I chose to close my ears rather than succumb to weakness.

"I just can't," I whispered almost too quietly for him to hear. I was surprised to hear the next two words that left my lips, "I'm sorry."

Vegeta's eyebrows lowered dangerously.

"Yes, you_ can_, Kakarot!" he snapped, "Don't give me the self-pity act; I don't need it and neither do you! I came here to rescue you, so I'll ask you _one more time_, will you join me in leaving this hell hole or not?"

I bit my lip hard, but I couldn't hold back a shaky sob.

Vegeta's eyes sparked with fire for a few moments, then, slowly, all the anger slipped from his face and was replaced by regret.

"Kakarot, I'm sorry," he murmured, "I didn't mean to snap at you. I just…. I thought if I came here and offered to help you you'd be begging me to get you out. Now you're telling me you _can't_? Why not, Kakarot? Why not?"

I looked at him carefully. _Why not, indeed?_

"I don't know h-how…." I began shakily, "….to live if not as a prisoner….."

"That isn't true, Kakarot. And you know it."

"But it is!" I burst out, "It is, Vegeta! All I know is what I have here. I think…. I think the shock of seeing the outside world would kill me."

I had to swallow to continue, this conversation was more than I'd spoken at once in years.

"I… I don't belong out there." I said brokenly.

Vegeta's expression didn't change for a good three seconds. Then he smiled a sad little smile.

"You don't have to belong, Kakarot. No one's asking that of you."

Still I hesitated. I'd prayed for a miracle, for some way out, for years on end. It just seemed like it was too easy.

Then Vegeta said something that changed everything, "What do you have to lose?"

I blinked. What _did_ I have to lose? Things couldn't get any worse from here, could they? I winced as I imagined the haunted, tortured faces of the animals as they were loaded into the truck bound for the slaughterhouse. I wasn't going to become one of them. Not while I still had the will to fight.

"Alright," I said shortly. It was only one word, but it meant a lot. Vegeta looked at me for confirmation, and he found the answer in my eyes.

He smiled genuinely and stood back a little, a shadow falling over half of his face.

"Well then, brace yourself, Kakarot. Tonight, you are a free man."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Shavneral

Chapter 6 – Kakarot

Vegeta wasted no time. I didn't even see what he _did_, all I knew was that several of the bars in front of my face quite suddenly were sliced and fell to the floor. The precision of the cuts was flawless. He took one step towards me, closer than he'd gotten since we fought, seeming to measure the cuffs binding my wrists and neck with his eyes.

"This'll never work," he muttered, "If I try to break them I'll end up cutting you."

I was about to say that I didn't care, but I remained silent, not meeting his eye, still questioning the decision to let him do this a thousand times over in my head.

Vegeta bit his lip, "Put your hands where I can see them," he said quietly, "So I don't slice off something important."

I obeyed without a word, letting the chinks of light fall on the backs of my hands.

I heard a gasp, and it took me a second to realize Vegeta was staring in shock at me.

"I didn't realize… I thought…" he breathed, sounding appalled, "…You actually got your thumb cut _off?_"

I glanced at the old injury and shrugged, "Most of it, yeah. My mistake."

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he just closed his eyes and went back to his work.

I heard a snapping sound and a heavy chain dropped to the ground next to my foot as it was severed. A second followed, and a third. Then the final bond was cut and I stood straight, noting that Vegeta had given me about half a foot of slack preceding the cuts, not slicing too close to the skin.

My sensitive hearing picked up a loud bang in the distance, and the sound of voices raised in alarm.

"Looks like we've been caught," Vegeta said bluntly, "Best get out while we can, it's past dawn."

I blinked and noticed that it was slightly lighter in here than before. It was hard to tell with all the stone walls, but it was.

Without explanation, he grabbed my wrist to lead me. I felt a jolt of terror and instinctively bared my teeth and hissed, wrenching the appendage out of his grip. He looked startled and confused, but his hands came nowhere near me afterwards.

I kept up with him as he lead me down hallways, seeming to know exactly where he was going. The whole place twisted and turned like a maze; just endless stretches of corridors and rooms full of equipment that I'd rather not describe.

I heard rapid footsteps, footsteps made by dozens of booted feet.

"They're chasing us!" I informed Vegeta in a more panicked voice than I care to admit.

"Doesn't matter," he said quickly, "We can fight them if they catch us,"

With that he tossed something at me, and only inbred reflex allowed me to catch it. It was the steel spur that I used to fight. I hadn't thought Vegeta was that observant…

I slid the weapon over what remained of my left thumb and dropped to all fours, using my tail to maintain my balance.

At last we came to a dead end.

"Now what?" I snapped, frustrated and more than a little scared.

"There's a way out through here," he shoved a wooden beam or two to the side to reveal a small gap in the wall. I wondered how long he'd been planning this, how many passageways he'd memorized, how many guards he'd deceived. All for me…. it made me strangely self-conscious. I didn't deserve such dedicated rescue.

I squeezed through the gap first at his signal, and he followed, the sound of an explosion and falling rubble a second behind him.

I turned mid-step and watched the roof of the room cave in.

"What just happened?" I asked raggedly.

"Blew it up," he smirked grimly, "Come on, this way."

Before I could argue that there was no way he could have just _blown that up_, he showed me to a shadowy alleyway that led to a chain link fence at the very end.

The gravel and concrete of the ground stung the soles of my feet as I dashed after him. I could hear dogs barking and knew that the men had unleashed the hounds on us. Usually I wouldn't be fazed, but it made my blood run cold in my veins right then.

Vegeta scaled the fence easily and dropped to the ground on the other side as if he were half as light as he was. He waited patiently for me to follow. I glanced up at the towering metal fence – topped with coils of barbed wire I might add - with something like exasperation. There was no way I could climb that.

Vegeta seemed to sense my thoughts, because he said boldly, "How much do you want your freedom, Kakarot? How far are you willing to go?"

I grit my teeth and attacked the barrier with a determination I didn't know I had. When I reached the top, I hesitated before dodging the barbed wire and letting myself plummet, landing cat-like on the ground without injuring myself…. though having no idea how I managed that.

And once I was _there….._ I saw the world for the first time in this memory.

It was a blur of color and sound and chaos that made me either want to shut my eyes and ears and crawl away, or stare until my eyeballs fell out of their sockets.

I think the latter won over, because I found myself standing stock-still, gaping at the scene before me in a state of shock.

"That, Kakarot, is a street." There was some amusement in Vegeta's voice as he spoke, and I shut my mouth quickly, possibly blushing though I'd never admit it.

How did humans manage living in a world of such insane _movement_ every second of every day? I felt like I'd suffered sensory overload after just_two seconds._

"Not much farther from here," Vegeta said shortly, "Follow me."

I wiped a stream of sweat from my forehead, the six-inch length of chain bound to my wrist clinking as I did.

"Okay…"

There seemed to be some ritual involved with crossing the street; something involving waiting for a change in light color to tell you when to go and when to stop.

Vegeta tapped his foot impatiently as he waited, "Usually I'd just _fly,_" he muttered out of the side of his mouth, seemingly to himself.

I was about to question this, but decided against it. I was too freaked out to voice my inquiries anyway.

I wanted to just dart across the expanse of black stone called a street, but I forced myself to walk.

"Here," Vegeta handed me the jacket off his shoulders, I blinked perplexedly at him and he shrugged.

"Lesson number one: in public, wear a shirt." He said simply.

I nodded distantly and put the jacket on. The chafing cloth felt foreign on skin used to only the contact of the air and the bite of a whip. Then Vegeta surprised me. He leaned against a wall and just stood there.

I tilted my head in confusion, weren't we escaping here? And didn't that involve movement?

"Bulma was to pick me up here in the morning after I investigated the place," he explained.

I was about to ask what a Bulma was, but I held my tongue.

"I told her I'd just go back on my own when I felt like it, but you know how she is." The other man continued.

I blinked, "Actually, no… I don't."

He faltered, and his expression became one of regret, "Right, I forgot for a moment."

I fell silent, listening for the bark of dogs or the shouting of men pursuing us; I heard neither.

"Kakarot…" Vegeta began slowly, "I…I'm sorry…"

"For what?"

"For not coming for you sooner… before all that happened. I sh – I should have come as soon as I heard you were missing…"

I honestly wasn't sure how to respond to this. What does one say to the person they don't even know who claims to have known them nearly their entire life?

Silence reigned for a long time, just the sounds of the street and the civilizations beyond where we stood. I felt extremely, unbelievably,_inconceivably_ out of place. Like I'd been dropped into another universe without a field guide or even a plan.

Vegeta looked up as something dropped _out of the sky_ and landed near us. Something like the vehicles the humans drove on the street… but _in the air…_ I was very confused now.

"That's Bulma," Vegeta said breezily, as if huge vehicles came out of the sky every day. Maybe they did.

"It's a lot bigger than I pictured," I said uneasily, "Are all Bulmas that big?"

Vegeta looked at me; then cracked up.

"No, Kakarot," he laughed, "Bulma is the _person_ inside the airship. Not the airship itself."

I glanced at the glass dome at the front of the…"airship" and saw a human woman with blue hair piloting the thing.

Vegeta gave another half-hearted chuckle, "It looks like I have my work cut out for me. Am I going to have to explain every little thing in the world to you, Kakarot?"

I shifted my stance a little, "M-maybe… is that wrong?"

His gaze stayed on me for a long time, "No. I won't mind teaching you. Even if I have to explain _grass_ to you, I'll do my best."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Shavneral

Chapter 7 – Vegeta

That whole escape episode took a lot more effort than I'd thought it would. Kakarot was so hesitant and fearful, and every time he flinched at something that should be as natural as the air around him, I felt a surge of pity that I wasn't accustomed to feeling and a hatred for the humans at that hell of a facility that rivaled my hatred for Frieza.

How long would it take for him to get over the trauma and torture that had been forced on him day in and day out for three years straight? Maybe he never would. In fact, I was almost certain he'd retain the physical and mental scars for life.

Finally Bulma showed up; late as usual. Her wave of greeting as she exited the cockpit of the airship faltered as her eyes immediately landed on Kakarot. I tried to think about what must have been going through her mind as a thousand emotions flashed behind her blue eyes. She'd known Kakarot longer than anyone else, and the changes – so drastic that he didn't even look like the same person anymore – must have been a major shock for her.

Even Kakarot's stance and posture was different than before. He used to stand tall, confident and fearless, tail loose and swishing at his side. Now he kept his tail guarded around his waist and almost crouched when he stood; perhaps from damage to his spine, though I suspected distrust alone could be the culprit. In the light of day, the badly-healed scars and lacerations that lined his face and legs – the worst of the injuries on his chest, back and arms were covered by the black windbreaker I'd given him – showed up stark and clear against his skin. And there were his eyes, of course; soulless black holes that compelled one to stare and yet were painful to look at.

Eventually, Bulma spoke. Her eyes roved over Kakarot's face, but she directed her words at me.

"Looks like you were successful," her voice shook a little, but I paid it no mind.

I nodded, "As successful as I could have been in this situation."

I saw Kakarot's coal black eyes darting between the two of us; wariness heavy in his gaze, though it hadn't switched over to fear yet.

"We need to get out of here," I said abruptly, "It won't be long before the humans gather more resources and catch up to us."

Bulma looked unnerved, but nodded.

I climbed into the airship and turned to face Kakarot; interested to see how he would react to the scenario.

As I expected, he copied exactly what I had done; though much more hesitant, flinching as his hand came in contact with the cold metal of the vehicle. He sat as far in the corner as he could; like a caged animal. I gestured to one of the seats in the ship, inviting him to sit more comfortably; and he shook his head fervently; all the terror from before flooding back into his face as the color drained from it.

Bulma's eyes lingered on him for a long time before turning to the controls and closing the hatch to the cockpit with an audible hiss. I glanced at the woman slowly.

"He's different," Bulma whispered to me as she piloted the airship, "He looks different. He acts different."

"I know." I nodded.

"Why? What did they do to him in there?"

"It's better that you don't know," I said quietly.

She fixed me with her stubborn blue gaze for a moment before turning back to driving.

I sighed; there was no swaying her when she got like this.

"Fine. But it's painful even to say." I gathered what little information I'd gleaned to the forefront of my mind and explained, "As far as I can tell, he was whipped nearly every day. They dehydrated him and gave him maybe one meal a day, judging from the starkness of his ribs. Either that or he refused to eat. I assumed they burned his hands – maybe as a form of punishment – because they are callused and scarred from extreme exposure to heat."

Bulma looked horrified, and rightly so; regardless, I pressed on.

"He was forced to fight. Often. To the death; without mercy or cause. Those nut cases seemed to be along the line of thought that if he got hurt; 'sucks for him'. They might have drugged him at some point – I think I saw track marks on his wrists, it was hard to tell – though why, I have no clue. And, as you may have noticed, they made certain… alterations… to his face."

"Why the fuck would they do that?" Bulma breathed, sounding outraged.

I shrugged. At this, I could only guess, "Appearance maybe, didn't want him to look too human... or maybe it was to make him look fierce. Or perhaps to keep vulnerabilities out of harm's way by removing them. I'm a little surprised they didn't try to cut off his tail; he probably kept it well protected."

I glanced at the huddled form in the corner over my shoulder. He wasn't listening to anything being said; just watching the clouds whip past out the window in apparent trepidation. At least he wasn't hiding his face anymore.

"Speaking of tails, why did they put rings on his?" Bulma asked. My eyes landed on the two golden rings looped close to the end of Kakarot's long, dark tail. I hadn't even noticed them before.

"I have no idea." I muttered, "Idiot humans."

There was a long moment of silence in which not a word was spoken by anyone. Only the whirr of the engine and the beep of the dials could be heard.

"Piccolo got out of there okay, right?" Bulma queried.

"Yes. He was only there to oversee the fight and make sure I got in and out alright."

Another silence.

"I wonder how they even got him to do what they wanted in the first place…" the woman said of Kakarot, "…how they imprisoned him when he could have killed them by flicking a finger."

I'd actually wondered the exact same thing.

"We might never know. He doesn't remember anything," I sighed, "Not you or me or even his sons. Nothing about his life before except his own name."

"That's just… horrible..." Bulma said dejectedly.

I nodded, watching the patchwork of landscape grow larger as the ship descended.

The airship landed in front of the Capsule Corp building, and the cockpit opened with a rush of air.

"Where are we?" Kakarot asked quietly. It was the first time he'd spoken in this entire time; I'd almost forgotten how his voice rasped and growled.

Bulma seemed taken aback by the timbre of his voice too; but she said nothing.

"This is Capsule Corp." I explained, gesturing at the huge dome of a building.

Kakarot took one look at the enormous building and instantly shrank back, "I don't want to go in there."

I walked up to him slowly and knelt to his eye-level, "Nothing here will hurt you. I promise."

One dark, endless eye met mine for the space of a second.

"You can't just stay here," I prompted, resisting the compulsion to offer a hand and help him to his feet; remembering he didn't like people to touch him.

"Why? Why do you keep helping me?" there was so much turmoil in his eyes, in his voice, and I felt something inside me twist with pity; he truly thought that no one in the entire world was on his side.

"Because," I searched for a reason; something he'd understand, "I once knew a man who saved the universe; who stopped at nothing to help the innocent and right the unjust. I believe you are still that man; whether you remember it or not."

Slowly, tentatively, he got to his feet; averting his gaze from mine when I attempted to look at him. I wasn't sure he'd believed me, but maybe something in the gentleness of my voice – which I still wasn't used to – had soothed him a little.

There was no telling how he'd react to Capsule Corp; and by extension the people inside it and the very world around him. I wondered if Bulma would ever actually speak to him directly; whether anyone else would. I wondered if he'd attack them if they did. Maybe I shouldn't have given him his thumb blade back yet.

X

- Kakarot

I followed Vegeta, because I knew he wouldn't lead me to harm. I didn't trust him, or anyone for that matter; but I knew – out of the two people before me – that he was the safer to be around.

I wasn't too sure about the woman "Bulma". Something about her freaked me out, but I wasn't about to say that lest she suddenly become my enemy. She seemed nice enough from a distance, but there was something about her calculating blue eyes that made me wary of her.

I swallowed the initial feeling of being trapped when the door to the huge building closed behind us. And when I say the building was huge, I mean it was huge. Even from the inside, I could tell it was enormous. I added large architecture to the growing list of things in this world that scared me. For some reason, keeping my eyes on Vegeta calmed some of the anxiety; I wondered what it was about him that was soothing to me, but I just felt more at ease when he was there.

"No one's here right now except us." Vegeta said softly. I was about to ask how he knew that, but kept my thoughts to myself; focusing instead on not getting dizzy from all the color around me. That was what unnerved me about Capsule Corp, other than its sheer size… the array of color and shape that made me feel both isolated and claustrophobic at the same time.

I could still barely believe I was free. I didn't feel free in the slightest, and the cuffs still attached to my wrists and neck weren't helping the feeling that I was still a prisoner; just in a different, more colorful prison.

"What now?" Bulma asked Vegeta.

He blinked, "I'm not sure. I didn't think ahead this far; I assumed you did."

"Well, I think we should at least take off those terrible chains first."

Anger flared in Vegeta's eyes, "You don't have to talk about him like he can't understand you! Ask his permission before you do anything, woman!"

I was very confused now. One minute they were having a civil conversation and then Vegeta suddenly exploded in anger out of nowhere. Usually I associated people that talked decently as friends with each other, and people who shouted at each other as enemies…. what did that make these two?

The woman turned to face me and I felt uneasy again.

"Sorry. Um… K-Kakarot…" she seemed to have a hard time saying the name; and I wondered at that. Other people said it easily enough, and it wasn't exactly difficult to pronounce or anything, "Do you… want me to take those shackles off?"

Yes, yes, please get them the hell off of me! Though the thought was earnest, I said no such thing, and swallowed the words; shaking my head.

"Why not?"

I took a step back unconsciously away from her and toward Vegeta.

The man seemed perplexed, "Are you… afraid of Bulma?"

I shook my head again. I wasn't sure if I was lying; but I didn't think "afraid" was the right word. I certainly didn't trust her and something about her still made me nervous.

What I did know was that if anyone was going to take the cuffs off of me; I would much rather Vegeta do it than her.

"Woman," Vegeta commanded of Bulma, "Take the rest of the day off, alright? Visit Trunks and Gohan at the Lookout, get something to eat, see your idiot boyfriend Yamcha; I don't care, I just don't want to see you here."

"And why," Bulma retorted, "may I ask, are you kicking me out of my own house?"

"Because I'll have a hard enough time getting Kakarot calmed down and settled without you here,"

"You don't want my help?"

"No."

"Fine." The woman said exasperatedly, "Have it your way."

With that, she left; and I was glad to see her go.

X

- Vegeta

The heavy pliers clamped down one more time and there came a clanking sound as the last cuff was removed. Kakarot rubbed his wrist once it was free; seeming unable to believe he'd never have to wear those chafing metal shackles again.

I put the pliers aside. Usually I could have just cut the restraints with ki, but I didn't want to hurt Kakarot; so I had to resort to human contraptions to do the job.

I offered him food, water, a change of clothes, a shower; all four times he shook his head. I supposed only time would help; time and sleep.

Disappointed that I couldn't alleviate the burdens weighing on my old friend – yes, I could admit Kakarot was my friend. At least… he was – as easily as I could remove the chains binding him; I showed him to one of the many empty rooms of Capsule Corp and suggested he get some rest – careful not to phrase it as an order in the slightest. I didn't want him to feel forced in anything he did; maybe then he'd start making choices on his own.

I lay in my own bed once that was done; wishing I could have done more. It was certainly unusual for me to want to help someone; but I disregarded that. I couldn't get the look Kakarot had given me as I left him alone from my mind. It was as if he were screaming 'please don't leave me!' with his eyes.

Guilt gripped me as I thought of this. After all he'd gone through today – not to mention in the last three years – how did I expect him to cope on his own? How did I expect him to be able to sleep when he was chased by the demons of his recent nightmare of a past at every turn? I was amazed he could even function as well as he could with that much mental and emotional tumult haunting him. Not to mention the scars and physical damage that no amount of time or senzu could erase.

I made up my mind and decided to go to him. If I could just comfort him for the night – even if all I could offer was my presence – maybe he could rest and… maybe… see that no one here was trying to hurt him.

I opened the door slowly, peering around the edge and looking for Kakarot. For a moment, I panicked when I couldn't find him, and focused instead on his ki signal.

He was literally hiding under the bed. I felt something break inside me; maybe my heart. He was curled in a ball, shivering; his eyes squeezed shut.

"Kakarot," I said tentatively. One jet eye snapped open and he stared at me.

"Why are you hiding under here?" I asked carefully.

"Feels… safer…" he murmured. I noted he said 'safer'; not 'safe'.

"Do you want to stay under there?" I wasn't sure if I should try to convince him to leave a place he felt remotely safe.

He fidgeted with the metal claw thing on his thumb that he still hadn't removed. Something told me he would have lashed out at any threat that appeared without thinking. I was probably lucky to have my face unscathed and have all my fingers if that was the case.

Of course…. that meant he didn't see me as a threat…. Why?

"No," Kakarot sighed eventually, "But… what choice do I have?"

"Are you really that afraid of being alone?"

He hesitated… then nodded slightly, "Pathetic isn't it?"

I ignored the question and instead focused on how I could be of use in this situation. "If I stay here, will you come out?"

He seemed sorely tempted, yet he gave no response.

"I won't do or say anything unless you want me to," I promised.

A lot of the conflict in his eyes seemed to dissipate; or maybe it was just my imagination. He almost seemed relieved.

"Okay…"

Well, I thought, pleased with myself; progress at last.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Shavneral

Chapter 8 – Kakarot

Reluctantly, I crawled out from under the bed; from under my safe haven that at least somewhat shielded me from this chaotic world I'd been dropped into. I wouldn't say I'd rather be in my cage back at _Shavneral_…. damn, it was terrifying to even _think_ that word now…. but I'd probably rather stay under that unnamed bed – and I say unnamed because it wasn't mine, or anyone else's – than come out as Vegeta requested. And it _was _a request; he didn't make it a command, and I wondered why I was surprised by that. Maybe he just seemed the commanding type, but there was _something_ about his character that just…. I don't know, but it was on the tip of my tongue a moment ago.

Whatever. My questions were erased as - the instant I crept out from under that bed - I felt the very presence of the room and the world around me pressing in, as if the very air were trying to crush me. Feeling unbelievably confined though having no idea why, I nervously met Vegeta's eye; wondering what exactly he wanted from me. What did I have to offer him? I was barely even a person anymore; he'd said so himself.

"See?" he said quietly, "It's not so bad."

I glanced around the room, realizing I hadn't even really _looked _at it before except to find some kind of security. The walls were white; I think I'd only seen white walls once that I could remember, and the curtains let in enough light to show me that the sun was setting. I still wasn't used to seeing the sun; and I think I'd stare at it forever if it weren't so damn bright. The floor was soft, carpeted, unlike the stone that had braced against my knees for so long. I think what really hit me was that there were no bars. Obviously. But still, the difference was both relieving and unnerving at the same time. How was I supposed to know where the boundaries were when there were no bars? I couldn't just go _anywhere_, could I?

"What now?" I found myself asking. Clearly, Vegeta was expecting something from me; I didn't know what, I didn't know why.

I almost wished I had the same sneering confidence I'd had yesterday when I spat in the eyes of the man who tried to inject me with testosterone. I wished I had the same eagerness for battle and disregard for everyone and everything. Now… I felt like I was stuck somewhere I didn't belong. Like I was outside looking in. Or rather, that I was inside and everyone else was looking at me. As if waiting for me to slip up; demanding me to live up to their expectations. I didn't even know any of them; but I was a part of their world now, and the outside world had rules.

Vegeta didn't answer me, and I flinched and almost bit his hand off when he absently traced a finger down the rough skin at the end of what was left of my nose. Instead I blinked at him, confused and debating whether to scurry back under the bed like the coward I'd become. I had to fight to keep my hands still; I wanted to attack something, but at the same time, I wanted to flee.

"So different," he murmured, "I feel like I have to get to know you all over again,"

My whole body was tense, afraid he'd touch me again. He didn't, but I didn't relax; I wondered if I ever would, if I ever _had._

"And," Vegeta went on quietly, never raising his voice any higher as he stayed kneeled before me, his eyes searching mine almost curiously, "Maybe, in a strange way, this is a good thing. A second chance. A chance to start over for the both of us."

I had absolutely _no idea_ what he was talking about, and I was getting more inclined to retreat back under the bed by the second.

I started to say something; to ask him what he was talking about or why he was just sitting there, but I couldn't get the words out.

"Look at you," I felt a shiver run through me as he lightly placed his hands on my shoulders, "Shaking like a leaf, Kakarot."

One of his hands wandered, and brushed against a deep scar at the base of my neck. Returning to sanity in an instant, I leapt back as if burned, my breath hissing through my teeth in a gasp.

"S-stop! Get back!" I shouted, baring my teeth in a snarl and flashing my steel spur at him.

He blinked, emotions I couldn't read flooding into his expressive eyes.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry Kakarot," he stammered, "I…. I know you don't like people to touch you, I just…" he broke off, getting quickly to his feet, "I'll let you be, I'm sorry."

_Gods, I'm such a coward_. I berated myself over and over. I'd taken the sting of a whip and the singe of an open flame to my skin more times than I could count, and a gentle –_friendly_ – touch made me practically bite his head off? Pathetic.

Still, I didn't know what had come over Vegeta. What had come over _me,_ but I didn't want it to happen again.

I let him leave; ignoring the flutter of fear in my chest at being left alone. I needed a new hiding place. One he wouldn't find me so easily in. My eyes landed on a closet in the corner.

Swallowing my mental debates, I slipped inside the closet and made a sort of nest among the jackets and other various articles of clothing, bringing my knees up to my chest and curling my tail around them. I closed the door softly and let my vision plunge into darkness. That felt much better. Safer.

It took me a long, long moment to realize I had just created yet another cage for myself.

X

-Vegeta

What was _wrong_ with me? _Gods_! I was _such_ an idiot! I finally got Kakarot calmed down enough to come out from hiding, and then I had to breach the barriers he'd thrown up _solely_ to protect himself? How cruel was that? It was literally the _same damn day_ that he'd been liberated from his prison; did I expect him to snap back into being how he used to be in a matter of _hours?_

I might have just made everything _worse_; because now Kakarot would be even slower to trust, knowing he couldn't rely on something as simple as personal space!

I had no idea what had gotten into me; I just wanted to explore the changes made to my friend, my comrade; to verify that he was still there and was actually real. Had I really missed him that much?

His voice – his rough, sandpaper voice – when he told me to stop, to '_get back'_ kept ringing in my ears. The blatant terror and… and _question_ in the harshly shouted words. It was as if Kakarot were asking desperately, '_Why? Why? I trusted you!'_

But_ had_ he? _Had _Kakarot trusted me? I doubted it. No, it was more like… he'd felt safer with me. More so than he had alone. And I'd shattered that. Careless. Useless. That's all I was.

I let myself collapse on the sofa; unwilling to go to bed, unable to stay standing. I allowed myself to think, since I had a moment.

Only Kakarot. Only _he_ could have survived so long under such circumstances. A lesser person would have broken after day one; but he held out. That, in itself, was amazing. I think I would have sooner killed myself than clung to life with the determination that he'd shown; had I been in his position. And yet, anyone _but_ Kakarot deserved to be stuck in such a place for years. The man had all but been a saint all his life; defending the little planet called Earth that he'd named home, and even other planets that he had no claim over but respected just the same. He'd been pure, innocent, even angelic. Why did _he_ have to be subjugated to such torment and unrelenting control day in and day out? It must have been torture to even wake up in the morning, and even more so to fall asleep at night. I could barely imagine it.

I wondered what it had been like. Just the simple, daily things. What was it like to have fifty-pound chains dragging on your arms and neck every morning, every night? What was it like to wake up to bars surrounding you every day? What was it like to be forced to kill when you'd never taken a life out of selfishness in your life? To have your back and shoulders whipped until the skin was on the verge of falling off at the seams being lashed into it? What was it like? How much effort did it take just to keep breathing?

I could guess, but I'd never really know.

I felt a strange new emotion come over me. I'd only ever felt it for my son from the future, perhaps…. maybe. I wanted to… _protect_ Kakarot. I wanted to guard him and shield him from the world, to tell him everything would be alright and stroke that silky raven hair.

Preposterous. Ridiculous. I would not stand for it. I was a prince; and princes did not stoop that low for anyone.

I remembered the haunted expression on Kakarot's face as he recoiled from me; breathing hard and fast, eyes wide… it was palpable horror.

I'd thought I could solve this whole problem by rescuing Kakarot from his terrible prison. But no, the rescue was only the beginning.

The real problem started now.

TBC

((_Sorry it's short, it's Monday night and I need to sleep!))_


	9. Chapter 9

Shavneral

Chapter 9 – Kakarot

I don't think I slept. More like, my mind shut down and I kept telling myself to inhale, exhale, repeat. It was a state of calming; just trying to shut out the demons and the voices.

And I don't mean voices like the lingering doubts and whispering illusions that automatically come to mind when I say this. I mean the memories; all the twisted, haunted memories of cruel, sneering voices in my ears and the slash of a flogger at my back.

It was dark in the wardrobe in which I stayed; so I had no perception of time, but that was normal for me. I was used to not being able to tell if it was day or night, and not being able to see the sun or the moon. It was almost comforting this way. Almost.

I kept remembering what Vegeta said as he left. He'd apologized more than once, and he seemed like he meant it. It wasn't like when my handler whispered it to me when he had to poke me with needles to take my blood or anything, because it wasn't just words. But what did it mean? What did he mean when he said "_I'm sorry"_? Was he just admitting he'd done wrong – _had_ he done wrong? – or was he saying he wouldn't do it again? Or something else entirely? Too many questions. It was hard to keep my breathing rhythm steady with such questions.

I felt like I should have been grateful to Vegeta. After all, he'd freed me from the hell that was my prison and seemed to ask for nothing in return. Maybe I should have let him touch me; maybe I should have just shut up and let him do what he wanted. Even if he tried to hurt me; I owed him my freedom.

No. It felt wrong. Every time his hand came towards me with any intent – whether to assist or just to feel – I felt a jolt of pure, animal terror. And that was reason enough to recoil from him. Until I could look at him and feel no fear, I didn't trust him. And I doubted that would ever happen.

I stopped thinking of such things after a while and just drifted; trying to fall asleep without really trying. I doubted I _could._ Not in such a strange place. The closet itself made me feel both secure and contained. I felt like there wasn't enough air, and I had to try really hard just to breathe. My heart was thumping in my chest; it hadn't slowed since I left _Shavneral_ behind.

I must have slept at some point, because I woke with a start from a vivid dream of claws and teeth, shouting and fire. And the whip. That was always present in the back of my mind. I could perfectly recreate the hissing, snapping sound it made as it whistled through the air; the arc as it curved and struck my exposed skin. I don't know why it haunted me more than anything else, but it did.

I was shivering slightly, so I drew some of the clothes surrounding me closer for warmth and curled my tail around my knees.

After a long time, I was aware that I wasn't quite alone. I heard the door to the room outside open; and I knew it was Vegeta. I knew he'd come back. But why? What did he want?

I stayed put. Maybe he would just leave if I didn't acknowledge him. Or maybe he'd come looking for me. And the strange thing was; I didn't know which of these I wanted him to do. I didn't know which was worse.

X

-Vegeta

I knew Kakarot was hiding from me again. I couldn't explain it, but I wanted to help him still. I wanted to show him he had nothing to fear. I didn't know what would come of my persistence, but I hoped if I just kept trying, I would be successful eventually.

I sat on the bed in the center of the room, debating whether I should let Kakarot know that I knew exactly where he was hiding. I could sense his ki, of course, however twisted and diminished it had become now. I supposed it would be cruel to tell him that no matter what he did, he couldn't hide from me. Let him keep his sense of security; it was probably better to wait for him to come to me anyway.

I lay back against the pillows, ready to wait him out. It was early morning, and I had all day. He couldn't stay in a closet forever…. could he?

He probably could. I figured there wasn't a lot of difference between that and his cage back at that godsdamned facility, and he'd been forced to stay there every second of every day.

Well then, I'd have to talk him out. But I wouldn't go after him. I'd already sworn I wouldn't.

"Kakarot," I said, knowing he was awake and listening.

He didn't answer. I hadn't expected him to.

"I know I made a mistake, but I swear I won't do it again. All I ask is that you come out of hiding. I promise I won't touch you or even look at you if you don't want me to."

I felt a subtle shift in his ki signature. He was weighing his options, and I could tell not even _he_ knew what he was feeling right now.

"I'll even leave, if you want." I said carefully, "Just say the word. I just think it would be better for you not to be stuck in such a small space, that's all."

The door to the closet opened a fraction of an inch. I felt hope leap in my chest for a moment, but the action of opening the door wasn't completed.

"How do I know if I can believe you?" Kakarot asked quietly. I barely heard, and when I did, my heart sank. I had shattered the small portion of trust he'd put in me. And I might not get to fix it.

"You don't have to believe me, Kakarot, I'm just asking."

"Asking what?" he was very tactful with his speech, I noted; accepting nothing halfway.

"If you'll please come out of the wardrobe," I said patiently, "This whole room belongs to you, not just the closet. I won't make you go any further; I won't ask anything else of you if you don't want it."

Slowly, the door swung open, but Kakarot didn't move.

"Where… where do you want me to go?" he asked after a moment. I sighed. He really couldn't make decisions for himself at all. It was worse than I thought.

I was a bit surprised at his asking me this, though. He still wanted to know what _I_ thought he should do, even if I'd pushed his boundaries before.

"You can come up on the bed, if you like." I suggested carefully, 'I'll move if you don't want me here, it's up to you."

I could see the struggle flash in his eyes. He didn't know what he wanted, and he wasn't sure whether he should be afraid of me or not.

Eventually he crawled out of the closet, but came no further; and just watched me.

"You have nothing to be scared of," I consoled, "If I'm making you nervous, tell me to leave. If you don't want to be by yourself, I'll stay. Anything you want."

I hoped if I gave the right amount of comfort, he would gradually get back to the state of feeling remotely safe in my presence. But I couldn't ask him to trust me. Not yet.

I closed my eyes, trying to will away my naturally impatient nature that was asking how long this was going to take. _It will take as long as it needs to take._ I couldn't rush this process. I couldn't and I wouldn't.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I opened my eyes. A razor-sharp blade was aimed right at my face, and Kakarot was standing there, brandishing the metal claw at me threateningly.

"Kami!" I swore, losing my balance as I tried to evade the range of the blade and fell out of the bed in the process, "Don't do that!..._Please,"_ I added when I realized I'd given him an order accidentally.

He blinked, "Don't do what?" he almost sounded accusing.

"Sneak up on me," I gasped, trying to catch my breath, my heart racing. I'd been startled before, but not like _that._

"I was just –" Kakarot began, the panic returning to his voice when he must have assumed I was angry at him.

"I know," I sighed, "Just defending yourself. But, Kakarot, generally people don't like having knives pointed at their faces. It's kind of terrifying."

Slowly, Kakarot lowered the weapon, "Sorry."

How did he do that? One minute he was a predator with a knife, and the next he was a dog that had been kicked one too many times.

I got back into the bed and sat there, eyeing the metal blade attached to Kakarot's thumb warily. I supposed he had the right to have a weapon, but still…

To my amazement, Kakarot took a few steps towards me and sat tentatively on the edge of the bed; his eyes never leaving mine. _Progress?_ Maybe. Maybe not.

He fingered the edge of the blade absently, "I never liked this, you know." he muttered, almost to himself, "I'd much rather have a real thumb."

_So would I, if it were me._ I agreed silently.

"N…now what do I do?" Kakarot asked.

I exhaled slowly. I didn't want to force him to do anything, and I wished he could just choose for himself.

"Anything. What do _you_ want, Kakarot?"

He fell silent, a furrow of deep thought showing up between his eyebrows.

"I don't know." he admitted; and for once, his voice barely rasped and he almost - _almost_ - sounded like his old self.

I could see him tracing words with his lips, as if debating whether or not to speak them. I wondered what went on in his mind; what it was like to be so burdened…

And I wondered… should he recover…. if I _wanted_ him to go back to his old self. He seemed so much more complex and aware now, much more mature; and though he was damaged possibly beyond repair, I could hardly deny that I found him fascinating in some distant way. Something about his sense of willpower, the intensity and depth of his eyes, possibly even the altercations to his face that made him look fierce and wild. And the compulsion to protect him hadn't faded either.

I took a moment to think about this. I'd never really looked twice at Kakarot with anything but annoyance in the past; irritated that he was stronger than me and so much more popular. He had more allies than I did and seemed to make no mistakes or apologies for anything he did or said. Now…. I couldn't explain it, but I felt…. sad…. about what had happened to my friend; what he'd gone through, but at the same time… I was intrigued. I felt a significant amount of pity for his suffering, but I was admittedly in awe of him. Having endured what he had, for so long; and having even been able to begin to recover was a feat unto itself. And it seemed that he'd completely forgotten our old rivalry or any hostility between us at all. In fact he seemed _safest_ around me; something that never ceased to amaze and confuse me since I'd realized it.

In the past, I wouldn't give a damn what I thought I felt, especially concerning Kakarot of all people. In fact, I would probably deny having feelings in the first place and insult the third-class even more viciously to make up for the lack. But…. for once, I didn't feel anything but compassion towards the man I'd come to know grudgingly as a friend. I _wanted_ him to feel safe around me. I_ wanted_ him to recover and actually smile again. I didn't want the old Kakarot back; I wanted to discover this new one, and get to know him as well as I had before - or better.

Upon realizing this, I felt a tremor of shock run through me.

I didn't want anything _from_ Kakarot.

I _wanted_ Kakarot himself.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Shavneral

Chapter 10 – Kakarot

~A sharp _bang_ kick-started my heartbeat, the odor of adrenaline and the salt of sweat making my blood burn and race. With a muted thunder of paws, a jet black wolf rocketed towards me, slavering jaws parted, amber eyes and pale teeth flashing. I held my stance, dodging to the left as it sprang at me, leaping across its shaggy shoulders and dodging glinting fangs as I delivered a brutal punch to its ribs. The wolf yelped in pain, then rounded on me with a snarl, hackles bristling. It pounced again, and I ducked, its claws grazed my spine, but I was able to kick it hard in the stomach, and it landed slightly unsteadily, still growling savagely. Its paws kicked up dust as it leapt at me, and I tried to evade it again, but I wasn't fast enough. I felt the unforgiving steel trap that was its jaws close around my thumb, missing my entire hand by less than an inch. Teeth clamped down and I stifled a scream of pain as the first digit of my left thumb was severed completely. I wrenched my hand from its grip before the animal could mangle it anymore, grimacing at the blood snaking down my wrist to rest in the belly of my elbow. With a snarl that rumbled from my chest, I attacked the wolf, grappling with its flailing paws and kicking its legs out from under it. I braced one arm against its throat as I pinned it to the ground. The creature struggled, snapping its jaws and trying to force me off of it with its frantically kicking legs. Almost lazily, I took its lower jaw in my undamaged hand, feeling the joint beneath my fingers. Baring my teeth, I wrenched my hand to the side, hearing the crack as I broke the animal's jaw. The wolf let out a pitiful wail, blood spurting from its distorted mouth as I delivered the final blow to its chest with my foot, killing it instantly; refusing to let the beast suffer a slow death.

I looked up, confused, as the scenery flooded to black. Suddenly I was in a completely different place. A room I barely recognized, and I saw... _myself._ He... well, _I..._ had my hands braced against a wall, and I was screaming in agony as a man lashed a whip into my amazingly unmarked spine, carving startlingly bright red lines into the flesh. Except I wasn't me. I was watching from the outside somehow. The apparition that was me was gritting out curses between lashes, attempting to attack my tormentors and shouting vulgarities and threats as the vile whip crossed and recrossed the new and now bleeding cuts and slashes that made my back look like ground meat. For a moment, the person that was me's hair flashed gold, but another slash of the whip turned it back to black as I howled in measureless pain, spine buckling under the abuse. The scenery was blurring now, but I could still hear the sickening flick of blood and flayed skin as the whip mutilated my body. And now I could feel the agony, the torment that was so great I could barely stand it, and as the scene flickered black I had to wonder what it was that I had just seen.~

X

I awoke, and was surprised to find that I had slept. I could hardly remember the dreams, but the fact that I had dreamed at all was confusing. I had scarcely dreamt since my first night after being rescued from _Shavneral._

A few days had passed since that day, and I hadn't left the room at Capsule Corp that I had been given. I hadn't seen any people at all except Vegeta, and even then, he didn't talk directly to me much.

I remember how wary I'd been when he first brought me food. I refused to eat the first two days, but eventually my hunger got the best of me and for once I accepted what he brought me. Now he always left a tray of food outside my door in the morning, knowing I'd either take it or I wouldn't, either way I wouldn't eat in his presence. Sometimes he would sit on the other side of my door and talk. He didn't expect me to respond or even listen; and usually I didn't, but sometimes I sat against the door and listened to him converse to no one in particular, recounting the past and musing about the future, or just commenting on the weather. I felt the most sane when I listened to him talk, with only the few solid inches of wood separating us. But every time he tried to push his boundaries; every time he opened the door a crack when he talked or tried to bring me my food instead of just leaving it where I could find it on my own, I would withdraw; and I wouldn't eat or listen to him talk through the door for a few days afterward until the air was safe again.

At night, I berated myself relentlessly. I'd never hated myself more than I did in the hours preceding my restless sleep. I called myself a coward under my breath as I sat there in the closet – refusing the bed even after Vegeta had convinced me to sit on it once. I called myself a selfish idiot and much worse as I thought of my past at _Shavneral_ and my uncertain future here. I didn't know when the fear would go away; maybe it never would, but until it did or at least subsided, I couldn't think of myself with anything but contempt.

And then there were these dreams tonight. Details were hard to recall, but I remembered the first one being a memory of when I lost the tip of my thumb to a wolf. A very vivid memory, but one I could remember relatively easily. The second dream gave me more pause, though. If I hadn't been looking at someone who was exactly like me, I would have said it had never happened. I remembered being whipped daily while in that prison, but that dream... it seemed to take place _before_ I'd ever been whipped before. There were no previous scars on my back besides the ones being lashed into it. And about the part where my hair had changed color... I remembered Vegeta's doing the same when he confronted me that first time. What was it? What did it mean?

Whatever it was... it made me more than a little unsettled to think about, like something unpleasant was walking on my grave.

X

-Vegeta

There was something about Kakarot. He was still terrified of his own shadow and refused to leave that room of his, but he was acting... different. He was very quiet, but he was actually eating and sleeping and he didn't seem to be hiding as much. I wondered what had changed, but I didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth and examine the circumstances too closely, so I told myself to be grateful for the slight upswing in events... however small.

Of course, it was a long shot to hope he would recover fully, or even be able to talk to anyone like he used to. He hadn't seen anyone but me since that first day when he met... or re-met... Bulma, and it was a matter of guess to speculate how he would react to anyone else.

I could be patient though. I brought him food, but let him decide whether he took it or not. Some days I returned to find the tray I'd brought up full completely cleared. Sometimes only a morsel was missing, and sometimes it was untouched. Either way, the younger Saiyan was making a choice, and I was glad for that.

I wanted him to feel more at ease when people spoke to him, and hopefully regain some of his old vocabulary and easy speech, so I formed a habit of visiting him and sitting outside his door; talking to the air, and hoping he would listen. He did, sometimes. I could feel his ki just on the other side of the door and feel that his attention was on me. It was frustrating. I was so close to him, and yet so far. And the recent examination of my _feelings_ was no help at all.

I wanted Kakarot. Gods, it was still hard to think that, but it was true. I wanted him to be what he had been to me before, a friend, and more. I wanted him to smile again, and I wanted him to be near me. I never wanted to doubt if he'd be there ever again. I'd suffered that for seven years when he was dead and three more when he was trapped in that thrice damned facility. I didn't want to have to wonder if he'd ever return anymore. I didn't want to worry that I might never see his face again. I _needed_ Kakarot. I suppose it should be the other way around, but I needed him. I'd been alone for so long.

Bulma returned to Capsule Corp on the sixth day, and of course she immediately wanted to know my progress with Kakarot.

"Woman, I'll be honest," I said as she sat down across from me in the living room, "There hasn't been that much change yet."

One pale blue eyebrow rose, "You had six days to work with him and you haven't made any progress?"

I decided I didn't like her tone, and I growled, "This isn't something that can be magically fixed in a matter of days! It could take _years,_ woman; your Kakarot may never be the same again."

I let that sink in, that she might never see a glimpse of her old friend again. There was a high – almost definite – chance that the Kakarot we knew was too far gone to be reached and brought back. The best anyone could hope for right now was some kind of recovery. At least for the terror and reclusive wariness to subside.

"I..." Bulma began, "Sorry. I just... I miss Goku. It feels like it's been forever since I've seen him. You know... the real him."

I bit back a defensive retort, that technically the _real_ Kakarot was just upstairs, and forced myself to be patient.

"I know," I muttered, "I miss him too. But that's no reason to rush any of this. Kakarot will return to us when he's good and ready."

Bulma looked at me for a moment, "Wow Vegeta, that was almost _nice._"

I stammered some kind of protest before just falling silent. I'd worked so hard trying to appear "nice" to Kakarot that I'd forgotten what a foreign trait in my overall personality it was. Gods, was I going to be forced to be nice to _everyone_ now?

"Have you gotten him to eat anything?" Bulma asked eventually, likely remembering the young Saiyan's fondness for food of all kinds back when he was... well... himself.

"Yes,"

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Kakarot was right behind me, I hadn't even sensed his energy move.

Then what I was looking at hit me. Kakarot had actually... was actually... _oh my gods, he actually left that room for once!_

The scarred Saiyan handed me an empty tray that had been full of food this morning, as if nothing was unusual. I noted that his eyes were still darting anxiously though, and I knew I had let my hopes reach too high. I had actually let them soar for a moment and had dared to believe that by some miracle he had recovered.

"Why did you...?" I began. How had Kakarot plucked up the courage to leave what he must have seen as a haven to venture into this unknown of a living room?

The younger Saiyan muttered something involved the word "more". It took me a second to realize he was asking for more food. Elation slapped through me; some of his Saiyan appetite was returning, it seemed.

"Of course," I nodded, forcing myself not to scare the other Saiyan with a blatant display of joy, "Anything you want." I looked at him expectantly; and abruptly he sat down next to the chair I'd been sitting in; right there on the floor. It was as if all his willpower had drained and his legs had suddenly stopped supporting him. I glared at Bulma and drew a finger and thumb horizontally across my mouth in the universal sign to zip her lips. I didn't need her startling Kakarot, and I remembered he didn't particularly like her scientific scrutiny. It made him nervous.

I kicked myself for hoping as I walked into the kitchen to grant his request. But this did count as progress, didn't it? Just days ago Kakarot was frozen with terror and refused to leave the wardrobe that had become his sanctuary of sorts. Now he was actually willing to ask for what he wanted, even if it meant braving unfamiliar territory. Though the unfamiliar territory happened to be the living room, it was a step in the right direction.

I wondered how many more steps like these it would take before Kakarot was able to go out there into the world for real.

TBC

_((This chapter felt really short. Sorry for the slow updates. I hope I can make them faster now that I've hit some progress and unexpected inspiration._

_Thanks for your patience and the nice reviews, I love you all!_

_-Shinsun))_


	11. Chapter 11

Shavneral

Chapter 11 – Kakarot

I had been sitting there for maybe two seconds before I got that feeling again. The feeling that the room was closing in on me, trapping me, suffocating me... I drew a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. It wouldn't do me any good to have a panic attack right then and there; right in front of the blue-haired woman who sat across the room from me.

I wasn't sure why I had left the room I had come to know as "safe" to brave this terrible unknown that lay outside the door. It wasn't just a desire for more food, though Vegeta _had_ seemed delighted by my asking, rather than offended like I had thought he would be. After years of being kept carefully on the edge of starvation by my handlers, the thought that someone would actually _want_ me to eat more was a new one, and slightly confusing... why would Vegeta just _give_ and ask for nothing in return? He sure did it a lot, and again, I wondered why this surprised me. I strained my memory, trying to think of what it was about the prince that was still freaking me out. It wasn't his unfamiliarity anymore, I'd grown rather accustomed to his presence, though I was far from feeling comfortable in it... No, it was something about how he acted; it didn't suit him, it wasn't _normal_ for him.

I suppose I'd spent too much time around those who wanted me to suffer and manipulated me to do what they wanted... I barely recognized a friendly gesture, and was surprised by how many of those I'd seen as of late.

In_ Shavneral,_ I'd been given only a meager amount of food, and it could hardly be called that. Minced, bloody chunks of meat usually, very rarely bread, and even then it was always stale. I was lucky enough to be given a piece of fruit once, the rind of a melon that still had some flesh left on it. It was by far the best meal I'd had in that damn prison.

The handlers were careful to give me food enough to keep up my strength, but I was always kept hungry, and the ache of my stomach demanding food became so normal for me that I barely noticed it as the months went by. There was a period of rebellion where I refused to eat for weeks, just to see if I'd get a rise out of the men, but they didn't seem to care or even notice that I pointedly tipped over the food dish each time they filled it without partaking a morsel.

They finally did notice after a while, I think it was a number of weeks but I have a hard time recalling time; after one of my fights against a mountain lion. It was a bit longer a battle than my matches usually were, mostly because I couldn't draw up the energy to fight back, and I was panting and bloody by the time I finally brought the beast down. I just stood there then, struggling to breathe and keep my vision from blurring; I was dizzy and numbness was flooding through me gradually, and after a few moments where I stood swaying, I collapsed out of sheer fatigue, passing out.

When I awoke I was punished for deliberately starving myself, and the burns on my palms were a painful reminder of what happened when I disobeyed orders. I learned I had been injected with fluids containing the nutrients my body needed after I'd passed out, and that was the only reason I had survived.

That event had scared me. I wasn't certain why; I'm sure death by starvation would have been a relief from the torment of my every day, but I wanted to live. I _needed _to. And my drive for life strengthened then, and rather than refuse sustenance to rebel against my handlers, instead I made myself stronger. If I was weakened by hunger I killed the rats on the floor of my cage, devouring their meat and taking the energy their tiny lives held for my own. I kept my fingernails sharp like claws by scraping them against the bars of my cell, giving myself a weapon.

Now though, I wasn't sure how to gain advantage against someone who didn't force me to seek it. How could I make myself stronger if Vegeta never drove me to? I was off my guard, unsure how to react to anything. And the feeling of a full stomach was so very foreign to me that I'd assumed I was ill or something the first time I'd gone to sleep fully fed. I was so used to the gnawing of my innards trying to digest themselves day and night that I almost missed it.

I had been free for... six days now? And for the first time I think I was truly grasping what that meant. I was _free._ I never had to wake up surrounded by unforgiving iron bars and chains again... I never had to be mercilessly whipped for putting a foot wrong, or burned for disobeying, eaten alive by hunger and fueled by a deep-seated rage for the single purpose of killing. But then... what did that leave? How could I suddenly _stop_ what I'd been trained to do for years on end...? Where the hell did I go from here?

"Who am I?" I whispered quietly, forgetting I was still in the presence of the blue-haired human. I ignored the inquiring glance she shot at me, instead trying to answer my own question. All I knew was blood and bars and shackles... it was what had made up my every waking moment for as long as I could remember... And now that that was gone, had I utterly lost my identity?

I snorted; _Shavneral_ was making a slave of me, just as my handlers had intended. I wasn't their prisoner anymore. I was more than that...

...Wasn't I?

I knew Vegeta wanted something – _expected _something – more from me. But I didn't know how to give him what I didn't have. I just _didn't know_ what he was talking about when he spoke of a past I supposedly had lived in. I had also overheard the woman called Bulma referring to me as a different name than my own... one I didn't recognize. Goku, that's what it was.

I had to admit, the name sounded oddly familiar, but it was not in a good way. It was like an ache, an itch in the back of my mind that I couldn't scratch. It certainly wasn't a pleasant word to think of, it almost made me wonder if I'd heard it in _Shavneral_ while I was being tortured, because my mind seemed to associate it with pain somehow.

I sighed and my gaze dropped to the blade fastened to the stump of my left thumb. In the flat steel I could see my reflection, and I studied my own face for a long moment, the same question running through my mind. _Who am I?_

I'd never really looked at my own reflection before... it was an odd thought; that I'd never really seen myself, but I'd never thought to, and there were no mirrors in _Shavneral. _

Well, I could see why people were unnerved when I looked at them. I knew what humans thought to be normal when it came to appearance, and my face was far from it. Thick, tangled black hair, spiked in all directions with heavy bangs that fell in my face. The sad, cropped remains of my ears, my nose almost catlike with its tip absent. A thin scar scratched beneath one eyelid; I blinked as my gaze locked onto itself. I had the eyes of a killer.

X

-Vegeta

Once Kakarot had eaten – it was the first time I'd seen him consume food in front of someone else, and I couldn't help but think ruefully that he ate like a predator; wary and efficient, savoring nothing in favor of finishing the task quickly, almost as if it were bothersome – he did not move from where he was sitting on the floor. I was a little confused by this; I had expected him to retreat back to his safe haven of a room once he'd sated his hunger, but he seemed unwilling to leave that spot.

Curiously, I glanced at his face and saw that he was deep in thought; I almost smiled to realize that while Kakarot may have changed exponentially into almost an entirely new person, he still looked much the same when thinking hard about something. He bit his lower lip slightly and his eyebrows furrowed into almost a pout, his black eyes fixed on the ground, the stare only interrupted as he blinked occasionally. I could almost convince myself he was still the same; but as I let my gaze wander, my doubts returned.

From this close vantage point – I was actually amazed he'd let me get this close to him in the first place without flinching or protesting - I had a very clear view of his shoulders and back.. and _gods,_ how had he lived with those scars? There was virtually no skin that hadn't been mutilated and shredded by that atrocious whip, and the surface itself was forever inflamed and tense. I winced to imagine what it would feel like if someone touched him there, the area would surely be a center of terrible pain – whether current or remembered – and it must feel something like having a red-hot iron pressed to the open skin if someone even touched a finger to it. And that wasn't counting all the deeper damage to muscle and nerves.

I shook my head slowly, both astounded and repulsed... and enraged, definitely enraged... I wouldn't be surprised if the nerves themselves were completely exposed in places, and judging from how close the raw scars were to each other and how deep they crisscrossed... they probably hadn't even been given time to heal before he was whipped again, and _again_, the gods alone knew how many times... If he were anything less than Saiyan the agony alone would have killed him in a week, and I was both grateful that he was so that he had survived long enough to be freed... and rueful, that his Saiyan blood would allow him to endure that much pain and abuse.

If the scars weren't enough, I could also make out the healing blisters caused by many burns, some even _overlapping_ the scars themselves. I shuddered, just thinking how agonizing it must have been to have those already painful and hypersensitive scars touched with extreme heat – even _fire_, if I was reading the damage right – it must have been enough to cause Kakarot to lose consciousness from the pain... unless of course the abuse to his nerves meant he was _unable_ to feel it.

I wanted only to alleviate this torment. The dragonballs crossed my mind; I could wish the scars away for good and make my friend whole again... My tail lashed indecisively as I sat down in the armchair I'd previously been seated in, and crossed one leg over the other in thought.

I imagined what a shock it would be for Kakarot if he were suddenly healed; all the rearranging of tortured muscle and regrowth of skin and stunted nerves... it would be horrifying, and it might take even _longer_ for him to recover from something that sudden and violating than this whole process in the first place. Also... the scars and alterations seemed to root Kakarot somehow, they gave him an identity. For the gods' sakes, he couldn't even remember who he was supposed to be as it was; if he was altered physically as well – even for the better; for how he was _meant _ to be – he wouldn't even have that much.. and _then_ what would he do? Not to mention that the scars were a testimony to the suffering he'd endured, a memory... if they were removed, Kakarot would be left with nothing to remind him what he'd gone through, what he'd _survived_.

No, it was for the better – at least for now – that nothing about Kakarot's physical identity be changed just yet. Better to wait for him to be sound of mind before he was made sound of body as well.

Still... I wanted to do something to help him, to somehow ease some of his pain. I let my eyes rove over the valleys of tense muscle and lacerated skin covering my friend's back. He'd probably never known the relief of having all that tension drained away, of the stress melting beneath another's skilled fingers.

I remembered something Kakarot himself had shown me years ago – back when he'd been the Kakarot I knew – after a rigorous training session that had left me sore and beaten. With gentle hands he'd kneaded the stress from my aching muscles, and I had never felt so relaxed. It was something I missed about our old comradery, how at ease I had been in his presence.

It was a little belated, but maybe I could return the favor, now that it was Kakarot who needed to be relaxed.

I doubted I could get him to agree. It would require a level of trust I had not yet gained from him, to be so vulnerable to someone else. But I had a feeling he needed a slight push or he'd never get out of the corner he'd driven himself into. And maybe that push started with a simple back massage.

X

-Kakarot

I knew Vegeta was sitting right behind me as I lost myself in thought. I could feel him staring at me; though why, I had no idea. I didn't feel the sudden prey instinct to back away in fear, in any case, so I didn't see any reason to move. I was aware once again that he wanted something from me... but what? What could I possibly offer him?

The blue-haired woman had finally left a few minutes ago, and I'd allowed myself to let much of my guard down in her absence. She did make me nervous. I was still wary, though, especially when Vegeta spoke to me.

"Kakarot?" he asked quietly, knowing by now that I favored lowered voices.

The two gold rings on the end of my tail clinked as the appendage swished in question, but I didn't answer with my voice, still thinking deeply about my own identity and what I should do now.

I could almost feel his hesitancy, and I jumped with a hiss as he tentatively brushed a light finger against my shoulder blade, running over several scars with the barest contact.

I was rigid for a drawn out moment, waiting for the pain, knowing it would come... it always did when someone touched me...

"Did that hurt?" he asked carefully, a waver of almost fear in his voice, as if afraid I would snarl at him or something.

I hesitated... then slowly shook my head, every muscle tensed with apprehension.

I heard Vegeta exhale in what sounded like relief. But I wasn't sure why. _What does he want?_

"Kakarot..." he said doubtfully, "Are you... still afraid of me?"

I blinked and jerkily turned to look at him, seeing the honest question in his eyes. In all honesty I didn't know what the hell I thought about him in the six days I'd known him, but I didn't think fear was on that list. Maybe it had never been. I was wary of him, but not necessarily _afraid._

"No," I said in barely a whisper.

"Do you... do you trust me?" he asked, his dark tail flicking.

I felt my eyebrows furrow slightly, "No," I repeated.

"Would you be afraid... if I were to try to help you?" he asked slowly.

"No," I reiterated shortly.

"Even if it meant I had to touch you?"

I faltered, "I... I don't know what you're asking..."

"Would you let me touch you, if it meant easing your current pain?" I could tell he was reluctant to say this, as if convinced that I would refuse.

I thought about it for a long while. I did _not_ trust Vegeta. I wasn't afraid of him, but I didn't trust him. I knew he was the safest to be around out of the people I'd met thus far, and that he expected something from me. I also knew I had panicked when he touched me before, and nearly all of the physical contact I'd been shown up to now had been cruel and painful.

_When are you going to stop hiding and cowering and actually do something about your situation?_ A little voice in my head asked sharply.

_When I can wake up without fear or pain and look at the people around me and not see enemies and captors. _I answered it bluntly, unsure why I was arguing within my own mind.

_Coward._ The voice said.

_Better a coward and safe than brave and dead. _I countered.

I could swear I heard the voice laugh snidely, _How safe are you now? You're terrified of your own shadow and can't even answer a simple question without suspecting treachery. Vegeta's offering to help you, are you going to run from him too?_

_I haven't run from anything,_ I thought with as much conviction as I could summon.

_So you're a coward _and_ a liar? _The voice taunted.

_Shut up._ I thought angrily.

I looked back at Vegeta, who was waiting patiently for an answer. I thought about telling him no and retreating again, but the voice's words still niggled in my mind.

I had run away too many times.

"Alright," I said.

TBC

_((So... now we finally – **finally –** get somewhere with this. It took ten chapters, but it still feels a bit rushed somehow. Sorry if it's shorter than it should be, I was going to make it longer, but it's almost midnight on a school night and my focus is drifting. The whole bit where Vegeta's considering using the dragonballs is actually in response to TFSrules's comments. It's not gonna be that easy, TFS! _

_Btw, for those of you who are waiting for the yaoi bit of this story (everything I write is yaoi, of course this is going to be too), I'll get into some intimacy between these two eventually; you can't rush these things._

_I'm still hooked on this story, it's just taking a while to get all the chapters written out. If it's only updated once or twice a month, I'm sorry, but that's just how it's gotta be. _

_Thanks, as always, for your patience and reviews._

_-Shinsun))_


	12. Chapter 12

Shaveneral

Chapter 12 – Kakarot

I was extremely tense, knowing Vegeta was going to touch me somehow; he'd said he would... and I'd given him permission to...

Maybe I shouldn't have.

I blinked and looked around when nothing happened for a long time. Imagine my surprise to find he wasn't there behind me anymore; he'd left. I was confused, why did he leave? But then he returned, holding something in one hand as he sat in the same chair he'd been in before.

I opened my mouth to ask him what he was holding, and he interrupted before I could.

"It's just lotion. Nothing to hurt you, alright?"

I held his gaze for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to believe the honest compassion in his eyes. Eventually I just sighed and turned back around, dropping my gaze to the floor.

There was a moment where he did nothing, and I was aware that I had tensed up again, rigid, afraid though I wouldn't admit it. I didn't know what to expect; no one had ever given physical contact that didn't result in pain or the force to _lead_ to pain. But Vegeta had said he was going to help me...

I flinched and squeezed my eyes shut at the foreign sensation of a warm hand smoothing over my shoulder. Every muscle was screaming at me to bolt, to refuse, to protest somehow, but I forced myself to stay still; I was tired of running away.

Another hand joined the first, both tentative, hesitant, and I could feel the fingers trembling slightly. It took me a second to realize it was actually me that was shivering.

I had been so uptight that I didn't notice at first that the touch brought absolutely no pain. My eyes opened slowly in confusion, and I craned my neck to look over my shoulder at Vegeta. He had both hands resting gently on my shoulders, and his expression was one of a faint line between indecision and hope.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked carefully, "If I'm hurting you I won't -"

I interrupted quietly, "You're not," my voice was almost a whisper, "But I... don't understand..."

"What don't you understand?" he didn't move his hands from me, but neither did he resume their actions.

"What are you...? Why...?" I wasn't entirely certain what I wanted to ask.

A flicker of a smile crossed Vegeta's face for a second, "Just relax for me, Kakarot."

I startled myself by doing as he said, dropping my questions and inhibitions for now and returning my gaze to the floor.

I wasn't sure why he wanted to help me, or what he intended to do now that he had me completely at his mercy. He could destroy me so easily if he would choose to... and yet I found my fear draining as the full surface of Vegeta's palms spread over my shoulders.

If he'd wanted to hurt me, he would have done so by now. And that small consolation was the one that kept me still with something resembling anticipation.

I was still confused, but I was a little curious now to see what Vegeta was trying to do.

X

-Vegeta

Alright, I'll admit it, I was nervous. I was afraid I would accidentally hurt Kakarot as my fingertips cautiously explored the battered planes of his scarred shoulders. Every inch of his skin that came in contact with my hands was hot to the touch, as if he had a permanent fever, and the surface was ragged and uneven with poorly healed scars.

I didn't want to linger in one place for too long, but neither did I want to move too quickly, so I spent considerable time just familiarizing myself with the concept – the freedom – of being able to actually touch Kakarot without him shying away or attacking. I could see him tracing the edge of the blade attached to his thumb distractedly as I slowly ran my flat palms down his shoulder blades, feeling the ridges of scars crisscrossing and overlapping; some much deeper or longer than others.

Despite the malnutrition he'd suffered and the torture he'd endured, Kakarot still retained almost the exact same chiseled musculature that he'd shown when I knew him before, even if the pure muscle was obscured and marred by lacerations and burns. Some of that maintained physique was Saiyan blood keeping him in battle condition, and some of it was his own drive to survive and become stronger that had nothing to do with his race.

Deciding I'd spent enough time mapping the scarred skin beneath my fingers, I paused to put a small amount of lotion in my hands and rubbed my palms together to warm it. When I returned to the tense shoulders of my friend before me, it was with a little more confidence. I began a gentle kneading motion, hesitating only to discern whether I was causing pain. For a few moments, Kakarot seemed to tense even more rather than relax. But, amazingly, as my fingers worked skillfully at the coiled muscle, his agitated posture loosened significantly, and a soft sound of appreciation left his lips.

Hardly daring to believe my good fortune, I experimented carefully with light amounts of pressure and circling motions with my fingertips, memorizing the harsh, deliberate lines of the deep scars engraved in the heated flesh. I tackled the knots of tension gradually, never working too deep or too fast.

I moved lower, and started on a particularly deeply scarred area of his lower back. I could feel Kakarot twitch just slightly, as though the area was still sensitive, and I guessed that much of the abuse to his nerves must have been centered there. I warned myself to proceed with caution, and carefully manipulated the taut muscle. It was a stubborn knot indeed, and with my tentativeness, I couldn't give it the treatment it required. I pressed a little bit harder, and Kakarot stiffened, a hiss drawing between his lips.

It was as if an electric spark had ignited in my fingertips and ran all the way through my body. My vision flickered and for a moment I saw a blur of dust-clouded darkness. I heard a sizzling snapping sound somewhere in the back of my mind and _felt_ the echo of burning, crawling, slashing pain originating near the base of my spine.

I came back to myself with a shaky breath, unsure what I had just experienced. It was as if I'd been thrown into a shadow of Kakarot's memories, seeing what he'd seen, feeling what he'd felt.

I thought hard as my fingers lingered lightly across the area of muscle that had caused the phenomenon. _ What just happened?_

Experimentally, I pressed two fingers to the knot of muscle again, deliberately finding a long, deep scar to attempt to make sense of what had happened.

This time Kakarot yelped, and I had no warning before I was submersed in a memory suddenly. The chafing of metal shackles digging into my wrists and neck, the palpable sense of terror and bloodshed making the very air tingle. The whistle of a horsewhip behind me... the knowledge that there was no way for me to escape it... and agony...

That's the only word I can find for it, though it seems far too simple.

I thought I knew pain. I'd endured my fair share of it during many battles and under the rule of Frieza. But I rewrote my definition of it now. It was as if a line of fire was being carved into my back, but with no rush of adrenaline to dull the pain, no knowledge that I was enduring it to protect others or further better myself... Senseless pain. It was a new idea for me, and it brought forth a surge of something that felt like fear but sounded like fury, pounding in my ears.

The memory released me and I shivered in horror, my hands withdrawing quickly from Kakarot as if seared. How could anyone _do_ that? How could anyone purposely inflict that kind of meaningless agony on another living being? What kind of mindless, heartless, sadistic monster would do that? To Kakarot of all people? What had he ever done to earn such brutal punishment when all he'd ever done was selflessly give, sacrifice and love?

I was aware that Kakarot had turned and was looking at me perplexedly, the tint of wariness still coloring his eyes.

"...Vegeta?" he asked hesitantly.

I could not reply. There was nothing I could possibly say.

I had a new and terrible understanding for what he'd gone through in that godsforsaken prison. Having heard of it and seen the evidence of it, I'd had a rough grasp on what had transpired and what he'd been put through... but to experience it firsthand, even as just a blurred, diluted memory... I understood now why he was so afraid of everything... why he'd shut himself away from everything for six straight days following his release from that facility. It could hardly be called a release, I now knew. The memories haunted him, dogged his fearful footsteps, chased him at night and lingered in his waking hours. He wasn't free now. He hadn't been freed at all. He was a prisoner in his own mind and body.

I met his dark gaze, reading the shadows of remembered torment and measureless agony in the depths of his eyes, and I found empathy and pity. I knew what it was like to be a slave, I had worked under that tyrant Frieza for much of my early life, but I hadn't known what it was like to utterly be a prisoner until today. Until I'd experienced flashes of Kakarot's recent past and realized that, though I may try to understand what he'd endured and how he felt, I'd never really know.

Because I had something he didn't; the ability to know the difference.

All Kakarot knew was what he'd been subjugated to in that facility. He didn't know that there was a life beyond the bars, that there were people who cared for him and loved him. He was totally and completely...

"...Caged," I murmured, not taking my eyes off of his, "...My caged Kakarot..."

He blinked slowly, puzzlement written on his face. I studied the rough edge where the end of his nose had been sliced off and wished I could just make it disappear; just return him to how he should be.

I found myself thinking that I would literally have done anything if it meant Kakarot had never had to suffer this horrible mistreatment... even if it meant I would have had to take his place.

I had never felt that depth of caring for anyone or anything. I didn't have a word for it, but I was sure such a word existed somewhere.

TBC

_((...Aaaand... im back to writing extremely short chapters. Sorry guys._

_Yes, the word Vegeta is thinking of is love, calm yourself. Also the line "my caged Kakarot" belongs to IceCamaro, I'm just borrowing it for these circumstances, I'm not that creative. _

_I sense a kiss in the near future. It almost happened here, but I'm too much of a coward to try to write it into this scene and it's the middle of the night (like 2 a.m.) before Monday morning, so... _

_I feel like my descriptions of feelings and memories are hard to understand... sorry about that._

_Thanks as always, for reading and reviewing._

_-Shinsun))_


	13. Chapter 13

Shavneral

Chapter 13 – Kakarot

Vegeta's words stayed in my mind as his hands returned to my shoulders lightly. I'll admit, whatever he was doing, he was good at it. I could almost feel some of the tension coiled in my muscles melting from me. But there was something he said that confused me.

_My caged Kakarot._

I remembered what it was like to be in a cage. Surrounded by unforgiving iron bars on all sides, unable to see the world outside, unable to escape the hell I lived my half-life in.

Caged? Not anymore, thank you. I had been told more than once that I was a free man, and while I was just barely grasping what that meant, I was fairly certain that cages were not involved with the idea. So why would Vegeta bring up the word caged when he described me?

Like just about everything else he said, it was puzzling.

I couldn't tell you how relieved I was that as the tautness of my muscles faded, so did my fear. For a brief moment, I was relaxed, and I could barely believe it.

It wasn't that the fear had disappeared, it was just that for a _moment_, it had been quieted. It was amazing really, and I reveled in it, closing my eyes and simply soaking up the soothing ministrations of Vegeta's skilled fingers working at the remaining knots of stress.

"Kakarot?" Vegeta asked after a long moment, his hands withdrawing.

I kept my eyes closed as I responded quietly, "Hmm?"

"It's getting late, you should get some sleep."

Thoughts drifted to the cold closet upstairs and the dark of another sleep-deprived night. My eyes snapped open, and I slashed my tail in frustration as I felt the relaxation waver and start to unravel as fear creeped back in.

_Dammit. One moment's peace and then it falls apart again._

"There's no sleep for me there." I muttered, suppressing a shiver as I was suddenly aware of how vulnerable I'd made myself to Vegeta just now. I was lucky he had decided not to abuse that.

_But why didn't he? Everyone I've let my guard down around have manipulated and tormented me..._

Vegeta seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted to say something but was afraid to say it.

I turned and looked at him, wary and curious.

"If... If you don't want to sleep alone..." he said tentatively, his black eyes averting from mine, "You are welcome to... join me and... and share my bed..."

I blinked, scrutinizing the offer blatant on his face. He seemed honest, but I wasn't sure...

"It's up to you," the prince added quickly, a dusting of awkward flush coloring his cheeks.

I opened my mouth to say no, to retreat back to the solitude I'd found a tiny amount of comfort in before. I'd given Vegeta way too much rein, and he could choose to take advantage of that easily. So easily...

But then the little voice of doubt I'd heard before niggled at my mind.

_If you run from him you'll end up right back where you started. Do you want to go in circles or do you want to fix your current situation?_

_I don't know what I want anymore._ I thought.

_What could happen? _The voice asked.

_So much could happen. So much could go wrong._

_Like what? Since you've met him, Vegeta has done nothing but help you. What would make you think he has any reason to hurt you?_

_They all did. They all wanted to hurt me. _I thought fervently.

_He's different._ The little voice insisted.

_He's not. He can't be._

_How will you know if you don't give him a chance?_

I had no comeback for that.

_Just give him this one chance._

I sighed.

"O-okay." I said carefully.

I hoped to whatever gods would listen that I hadn't made a huge mistake.

X

-Vegeta

I wasn't sure whether I'd heard correctly. Kakarot was _agreeing_? There must be some mistake.

But as I got to my feet, he followed suit without a word. The anxiety was plain on his face, in his lashing tail and darting eyes, but if he would go through with what he said it would be a _huge_ leap of progress. It would mean he was no longer afraid of letting his guard down in his sleep. That he trusted someone not to take advantage of him when it was easiest for them to do so. Even if he said aloud that he did not trust me, his actions might prove differently.

_Just don't fuck this up. Do _not_ fuck this up._ I berated myself as I led Kakarot uncertainly up the stairs.

Kakarot hesitated when we reached the bedroom door, but he maintained the silence, his tail low and sweeping with wariness.

_I just want to help him._ I thought resignedly. _Nothing else. _

Kakarot seemed a little unsure what to do with a bed, and I felt a twinge of pity as I thought about this. In his memory, he'd never slept in a real bed before. It was such a simple comfort that he'd gone completely without.

I lifted one side of the blankets and slid into the bed, nervous and worried that Kakarot would bolt or change his mind, he seemed about ready to do either.

To my surprise and delight, he hesitated only a moment longer before crawling in as well, but he didn't relax by any means, staying on the edge, his left hand bared in the space between us, the moonlight through the window glinting on the blade attached to his thumb. He was deliberately reminding me that even though he was briefly letting down almost _all _of his guard, he could still attack me and possessed the weapon to do so.

And I wondered how on earth I was going to sleep with that unnerving thought in my head.

X

I must have fallen asleep at some point though, because shortly after, I found myself in a dream.

~ It was dark, pitch black no matter how my eyes strained to catch some glimpse of light. I was lying in my bed, but I'd never been more wide awake. I could smell blood and fear, and a chill of dread trickled down my spine as a single point of light pierced the room, rebounding off the cracked mirror on the opposite wall.

A flicker of movement flashed in the reflective surface, and my heartbeat broke into a gallop in my chest. This was an unusual feeling for me, the feeling of being prey. Of being hunted.

A shadow traversed the room, and my eyes hurried to follow its progress. Something lithe... predatory... I caught a glimpse of a dark tail, the glimmer of two gold rings at the end of it... the flash of a steel blade winking in the blackness.

I was about to speak when suddenly I was pinned on my back, a hand clamped over my mouth, a thin metal blade digging into my cheek, drawing blood. I looked up to see a pair of slate eyes trained unwaveringly on mine. Kakarot's eyes. All the fear I had ever seen in them had drained away completely, leaving them – rather than the innocent, friendly eyes I remembered – as fiery points of spite and savagery.

His lips drew back in a half-snarl, half-sneer; and his hand moved away from my mouth. Even then, I doubted I could speak if I wanted to. I was actually terrified, something I had never, ever been before.

The shadowy form of Kakarot's face faded out of focus as he drew back away from me for a moment, though I could still make out his eyes, like live coals, burning in the dark.

"K-Kakarot...?" I forced out, commanding my tongue heavy with fear to produce sound.

He either ignored me or didn't hear, and he raised his head, alert like a predator, before disappearing from my bed, into the shadows beyond my field of vision.

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, but the same breath caught in my throat as something heavy and solid dropped suddenly directly on top of me, pinning me down.

I got one glimpse of the flame in Kakarot's black eyes as he leered over me, an instant before his hand slashed from my waist up, carving into my flesh with the wicked blade of his only weapon.

I watched the sickening spatter of scarlet, black in the dark, cover his face, felt the hot trickle of my own blood running down my skin.

For a moment the monster pinning me down just glared at me, his tongue flicking out to trace his bloodstained upper lip, and then he raised his armed hand above me.

I screamed as he brought the blade down across my face, a moment before I jolted awake. ~

X

I was struggling for breath, cold sweat soaking me, my heart racing, drumming against my ribs as though trying to escape my chest.

I glanced across the moonlight-striped bed at the sleeping form of Kakarot on the opposite edge. He had his left hand clenched in a tight fist, the blade still completely visible in the moon's glow. I studied the shallowly curved length of steel, clean and innocently glinting in contrast to the blood-soaked lethal weapon I remembered from my nightmare.

_Gods, what a vivid dream that was..._

It was like it wasn't even a dream, just a terrifying spin on reality. And the predatory Kakarot that had attacked me was strangely and shockingly plausible. It wasn't such an unrealistic idea, considering what I knew about him.

And it was then that I spotted a rather crucial flaw in this plan of mine.

My goal right now was to heal Kakarot physically and mentally, to help him recover and lose his fear.

But I'd completely forgotten one important fact.

Without his fear keeping him docile... Kakarot's sole purpose was to kill.

TBC

_((How do you like that little twist? Short chapter, it's late and tomorrow's Monday, so I'll be needing some semblance of sleep. And I just updated stories three times in less than twenty-four hours. Wow._

_I figured we could use a look into one of Vegeta's dreams since we got to see Kakarot's in chapter 10, and yes Kakarot is losing a lot of his fear right now, making a lot of progress, but as Vegeta just figured out... that might not be as good a thing as everyone hoped._

_Sorry I'm only updating this once every month or two, and that every time I do the chapters are ridiculously short, but it's that kind of story, I guess. And it really is one of my favorites of all the stories I've written._

_Thanks as always, for reading and reviewing._

-_Shinsun))_


	14. Chapter 14

Shavneral

Chapter 14 – Vegeta

I watched Kakarot sleep. Amazing, really, that he could even find enough peace to slip into whatever dreams lurked in that haunted mind of his... and I wondered if his mind would in fact give him a dreamless sleep to relieve him from the nightmares of his waking hours.

Studying his reposed face, I allowed myself to think about what I was gradually accepting I felt about him. I never would have thought I'd admit it, even to myself, but I cared for him a lot... in more than a comradely way, even. After getting closer to him when he'd allowed me to touch him, I'd verified that there wasn't a thing about him that I found unappealing, even with the deep scars and mutilations of his flesh... I was able to see past that, and even apply them into a rather strange form of distant beauty that I was unaccustomed to. The scars told a story of his enduring strength, of his struggle against those that treated him like less than dirt. And each fray of skin was unique, though they were painful to look at and I wished with all my heart to make them disappear.

It was complicated, I suppose. Like almost everything about Kakarot now, it was controversial and confusing. I wanted Kakarot, but I doubted I'd ever get close enough to have a chance. And I certainly didn't want to push the limited amount of acceptance, maybe even trust, that he'd given me now.

Still, my eyes were drawn to the curve of his sleeping cheek, the skin weathered where once it had been smooth and soft; the gentle sweep of eyelashes beneath a perpetually furrowed brow. The tiny flaw of a scar under one eyelid, the cropped remainder of his nose.

As my thoughts drifted without pattern, I wondered... would he ever be able to step outside this house again? Would he ever look upon his sons and actually recognize them? I sighed with a feeling similar to pity to envision the reaction of Gohan and Goten if their father shrank back from them in fear... Of trying to explain to the younger of the two why he looked so different and where the scars had come from. Everyone Kakarot had known before was a stranger to him now... the thought made me sad for my friend, as well as for his loved ones. But there was nothing I could do in that regard. I couldn't fix what wasn't mine to fix; broken relationships required a different kind of healing.

My gaze returned to Kakarot's face in time to see his eyes snap open, briskly, but without any drama. His midnight pupils wandered briefly before landing on me, and I distinctly saw his wrist shift to tilt the blade on his thumb, letting it catch the moonlight and flash just slightly. Slowly, he sat up and looked at me, and I swallowed a bizarre sense of amusement that his hair was even more unkempt than usual with lingering sleep.

His tail flicked once, but he remained silent, his gaze eventually dropping to the sheets beside him, which he had lightly gripped in his fingers, as if trying to anchor himself here...

"Sleep well?" I asked automatically, unsure if there was any right answer to that question where Kakarot was concerned.

His shoulders lifted a little in a shrug, "I don't know." he said quietly.

It occurred to me that he might not even know what sleeping "well" felt like... the experience of such things was beyond his reach.

I rephrased the question into something he could understand, "Did you sleep at all?"

He nodded once, not looking at me.

It seemed that he was acting different, and I was confused by his behavior.

"What's wrong?"

Kakarot met my gaze gradually, uncertainty and a tint of what looked like comprehension in his eyes.

He seemed about to speak, but then closed his mouth and ducked his head away.

"I was being stupid." I heard him mutter softly.

My eyebrows drew together in a frown, "How so?"

"I've been so afraid you would..." he began hesitantly, trailing off, "I've been watching you and threatening you... and you never did anything wrong... You've done nothing but help me..."

I was silent, waiting for him to go on with forbearance.

"And then I woke up and I felt... safe." he murmured, barely a whisper. He almost seemed to be in awe of that small but crucial fact.

I didn't say anything. I was afraid if I did convince myself to speak that I'd shatter the spell that had been cast by Kakarot's words. He felt _safe..._ with me? I could barely believe it.

My eyes were once again riveted to his face; studying the uneasy honesty in his gaze, the strangely adorable way he bit his lip in thought that detracted from the overall fierceness of his visage significantly. I was aware of how close he was to me... closer on the whole than he'd been even when I'd explored his shoulders with my hands. I could feel his gossamer breath against my skin, the feverish warmth of his body heat; and I could sense that he was studying me, scrutinizing me even as I did the same to him.

I was amazingly relieved to see a good deal of the fear from before absent from his gaze, but instead of being harsh and sadistic like they'd been in my nightmare, or gentle and kind like they'd been in years past; his eyes were simply uncertain... a trace of isolation and loneliness that I hadn't expected. Despite being calmer than he'd been in a long time... Kakarot looked lost.

Dazedly, I felt myself lean forward just slightly, and my lips touched his tentatively. Chapped and cracked, they were anything but welcoming, but beneath the lingering taste of carnage that made its way into my mouth, there was something familiar... something sweet.

Kakarot gasped after only a brief moment of contact and broke away, and my eyes flitted open slowly, realization sinking in.

I knew that Kakarot flinched if anyone so much as touched him... and without thinking of what I was doing, I had actually _kissed_ him.

I hadn't really meant anything by it, though the dissipating taste still faint on my lips suggested otherwise... He'd just looked so alone. I had wanted to do something to somehow show him how I felt... but I hadn't expected to actually _act _on it.

I chanced a glance at Kakarot, wishing I could take it back, but at the same time wishing to do it again. Wishing for _more..._

His eyes were wide, but rather than being fearful or offended... they were utterly confused. His lips slightly parted, startled and perplexed. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the perhaps unintentional wink of the steel blade on his thumb as he shifted.

"Kakarot..." I began, seriously considering just apologizing and retreating to leave him be. I had a feeling that would make whatever circumstances I'd created worse, though. So I waited nervously for his reaction, whatever it may be.

"Wh..." Kakarot stammered, seeming unable to speak for a moment, "What was th-that...? What d-did you just do...?"

It occurred to me quite suddenly that he had no idea what a kiss was. In his memory he'd never experienced such a thing. It must have seemed terribly odd to him then, what I had just done... But surely some instinct was telling him that it was a gesture of compassion and not, say, an attempt to suck the life out of him or something.

"I..." I said hesitantly, not wanting to scare the other off accidentally, "...I kissed you, Kakarot."

Granted, I had considered that for a while now; since I'd realized that my caring for Kakarot exceeded a simple comradely bond... And I'd had my fair share of dreams that would probably never become real since then; always waking with an ache, wanting what I shouldn't have.

"...Why?" Kakarot asked quietly, adjusting his weight uncomfortably, drawing attention yet again to the fact that he still wore only the dark, gold-fastened loincloth from _Shavneral _around his hips as a semblance of clothing, refusing any suggestions to change his attire. I felt the ache beginning to return...

"Because... I care about you..." I said waveringly, unsure how to explain what didn't need to be explained to anyone else on the planet... how does one simply explain something that's universally understood...?

Kakarot touched his fingers absently to his lower lip, conflict and confusion warring in his black, endless eyes.

"...I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Kakarot," I muttered rigidly, getting to my feet to leave, despite a tiny impulse arguing that I stay for Kakarot's sake.

"Wait -!" I nearly jumped out of my skin as a callused hand grabbed my wrist, stopping my retreat.

I turned and looked at Kakarot, aghast... He blinked once forcefully, as if shaking off a nagging doubt; and to my shock, he leaned up and uncertainly brushed his lips against mine, as if trying to imitate what I had done, and my whole body shuddered at the ethereal touch. Gods, I had never even _dared_ to dream that he might kiss me back...

The contact vanished after only a moment, and I looked in his ebony eyes, surprised to see a tiny flicker of desire there.

"...I don't think..." Kakarot began carefully, "I mean... would you...?"

I blinked, "Would I what?"

He swallowed hard, "...Do that again...? ….'Kiss' again?"

I noticed the hesitant stress on the word; the kind used when a definition is not quite understood.

_There's so much that he doesn't know..._ I thought incredulously, _So much that he doesn't remember..._

And I was conscious that he was really only asking out of confusion; wanting to understand this concept he was unfamiliar with...

Scarcely believing it, barely able to comprehend that I actually had his permission... my hand shook slightly as it gently wrapped around the back of his neck – a vulnerability in a fight, and he knew it, tensing a little at the touch – and slowly pressed his mouth to my own, searching for any sign that I'd overstepped a boundary or that Kakarot didn't want this. For a long moment he didn't respond at all, his mouth unyielding and even resisting... but then I realized that it was because he didn't know what to do... he didn't know how he was supposed to respond.

Trying to show him, I moved my lips gradually, tangling my fingers in the base of his hair and tracing his lower lip with my tongue, tasting the copper of old blood and the hint of sweetness from before.

After a minute or two, he slowly began to participate, adding his own pressure, and then covering my mouth with his.

_Oh, gods..._

I felt his tongue searching for a taste, and willingly surrendered to him, amazed and slightly afraid that I would go into shock. I hadn't expected to get this close to him, to be allowed this moment of escalating passion from him, for months or years... or at all.

And yet... there was a dim awareness that he didn't truly know what the action meant. He must have had some inkling, able to infer from the sensation that was surely being caused in his body... but he didn't know about the _intimacy_ implied by the kiss...

But I did.

X

-Kakarot

So this was what a kiss was. I was confused... questioning... but at the same time, I was anticipating, appreciating... and I felt hot all over. Sweat dripped down my forehead, every inch of my skin sweltering... and somehow the overheating sensation was strangely wonderful.

I had never known that these kinds of feelings even existed...And Vegeta was showing me, teaching me and letting me catch up to him and explore, experiment, understand...

I felt his warm tongue easing slowly into my mouth, somehow intensifying the heat and sensation... I heard the low groan from his throat, but it wasn't a pained one like I'd heard from those who were injured in a fight... It was... pleasure.

I didn't resist as he leaned over me, laying me down on my back and kneeling across my chest... though some niggling instinct was warning me insistently that he could easily hurt me, break me, destroy me... I shoved the thought aside, almost irritated at the primal edge of fear itching at my skin.

Vegeta's tongue stroked against my own, and the prick of fear was washed away. His breathing was rough, short bursts of air released from his nose as his lips enveloped around mine over and over, as he tilted his head alternately to change the angle.

Soft tail fur brushed against my cheek, and my eyes blinked open to see the auburn tip of Vegeta's tail feathering over my face, and he withdrew his lips from mine after a moment; though he seemed reluctant.

"Are you alright, Kakarot?" he asked in a quiet murmur, stroking his tail against my cheek again.

"F-fine," my voice was unsteady and dry, it barely sounded like my own.

A look came into the other's gaze; a look I didn't recognize. It was a nice expression, but it seemed just on the edge of pity somehow. I wondered what he was thinking about to put that expression on his face.

"Do you want me to stop now?" Vegeta went on, his voice carefully controlled, "Did you get what you wanted to know?"

I felt something like disappointment, though I wasn't entirely sure of the cause.

"Is there... is there more to it?" I asked uncertainly.

I contained a shiver as his tail brushed my bangs away from my eyes.

"Much more..." he said softly, "But if you don't want to know any more, we can stop here. Even pretend it never happened if you like. Whatever will make you happy."

I looked at him calculatingly, considering what he said. There was still a tiny whisper in my mind telling me to back away from a potential threat while I had the chance, but nothing I'd seen and felt of what Vegeta had shown me had seemed threatening at all. Quite the opposite; it was soothing...

I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually felt this good. I hadn't even really known that I _could..._ Even if he did end up hurting me; which I seriously was doubting he would now... it would be worth it in my mind, just to feel that way again.

I met his eye decidedly, making up my mind.

"Show me."

TBC

_((Gods, it has been forever since I updated anything, namely this one. And I think it (again) escalated too quickly. Too short. Awkward wording. Other such complaints. But I figured I've done enough fillers to warrant a kiss...About time something made these two remotely happy. They're both far too lonely, even with each other. _

_Sorry my inspiration's been really off lately, I'm a bit off my game... I'll get back on it eventually._

_Thanks for reading and reviewing and putting up with this... and we might even get a little love scene in the next chapter, since they're still in Veggie's bed and all... but the conflict is far from over!_

_-Shinsun))_


End file.
